


Sweet Madness

by BayleyWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Dark, Dom/sub Undertones, Happy Murder Family, Knight of Hell Dean Winchester, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Murder, Power Sam, Pre-Series, Underage - Freeform, killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-04-14 00:24:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14124126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BayleyWinchester/pseuds/BayleyWinchester
Summary: Ever since the Winchester boys were born people could that something was off about them.With good reason.Sam and Dean were meant for something more than just hunting the demons. They were born to control them.And, by God, they will kill anyone who stands in their way.





	1. Chapter 1

Ever since the Winchester boys were born people could see that something was off about them. 

Dean Winchester, from when he was just a baby, was an angry kid. No, it wasn’t anger. He was evil. People would move out of his way when he walked by, fearing his wrath even as a child. His eyes, they were the worse, when you looked into them it was if you were looking into a wild animal’s. Dean Winchester was the kind of person parents would tell their children about, tell them to beware of him. 

Sam Winchester was less feral. He was worse. You could see the evil in his eyes, the cunning intelligence that he would stare with. Everything about him, the way he stood moved and talked, everything screamed danger. Sam Winchester was not someone to mess with, anyone who saw him new that. 

Sure, Dean was pure evil but Sam, Sam was something otherworldly.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean didn’t remember meeting for the first time. Doesn’t remember Sam being placed in his arms or looking into his eyes for the first time. He assumed it was awesome, considering how much he loved looking at his brother now. But, he decided it no longer mattered, who cares if he didn’t remember the first time? He could look at his Sammy whenever he wanted now and that’s what mattered. 

“You’re staring at me again,” Sam muttered from the sofa. 

“So?” 

“Creeping me out.”

He rolled his eyes but got back to his school work at the motel table. Sam had finished his school work hours ago, the lucky bastard was still only grade four, and only ever bought a few pieces of paper home. Dean still had a mountain of work to get through and he had promised Sam that he was going to do it. 

“This sucks.”

“Stop complaining, De, it’s just school.”

“I still don’t want to do this, Sammy, can’t you do it for me?”

“If I do your school work will you do my running?”

It was their deal. Dean would actually try in school, do his homework and get better grades, and in return, Sam would do all the training their dad required without complaining. They had been doing it for the school year after Dean got pissed at Sam for constantly bitching and Sam got annoyed that Dean wasn’t trying in school. 

“All this school work is making me antsy, Sammy.”

“Well, when you’ve finished we can go scouting,” Sam replied, sending a grin to his brother. 

“Hmm, we need to find a new place. The owner will be returning soon, I’m guessing.”

“And you left the body there for him to find?”

Grinning, Dean nodded. A teenager girl, a few years older than Dean, had been their latest victim. She was pretty but in the end was just another disposal doll that Dean got to play with for a few hours. It had been nearly a week since she had died. A week since Dean had his fix and already he needed more. 

“It’ll be the last person in this town, already taken to many here, better make it worth it.”

“You telling me to torture him?” 

“I’m telling you to enjoy it,” Sam replied, standing from the sofa and moving to sit at the table.

“Always do.”

Sam rolled his eyes but didn’t comment, instead he picked up the sheet from in front of Dean and read over the work he needed to do. Math, both boys least favourite, at least Dean was nearly finished. Then they would go for their daily run, Sam’s least favourite part of the day, but they would be killing two birds with one stone. They needed to find a new place to take the next victim. 

“Hurry up,” Sam instructed, “I want to get home before dark.” 

“Sorry I can’t be a genius.”

“Not asking you to be a genius, I’m asking you to hurry up.” 

“I thought you wanted me to try, Sammy, I’m not going to do well if you’re rushing me.”

Hearing Sam laugh in reply made Dean’s eyes light up. His Sammy was the most beautiful thing in the world and when he was laughing, well it just made him even more beautiful. In Dean’s opinion Sam was only more pretty when he was covered in blood, or when he was angry and his eyes, they would turn the colour of liquid gold for a moment before going back to his normal hazel. 

“You’re staring again.” 

“Can I not look at my baby brother?”

“No, you can not. What you can do, is your homework.”

“Fine, fine.”

Sam smiled at his brother. He sat at the table silently, waiting for Dean to finish his school work, and helped him if he got confused. For the younger brother, he was the smarter one. It didn’t matter to the brothers. Brains and brawn, both equally important in their profession. While he waited, Sam finished reading a lore book on werewolves. Nothing he didn’t know already, but it was always good to brush up on the lore. 

“Okay, done,” Dean said, shoving his books into a bag beside him. “We going now?” 

They were quick to get out the door and true to the arrangement Sam didn’t complain once. The motel they were staying in was already out of town by just under a mile but the boys decided to go the other way, so they could try and scout a new location. The last one they had used was an old shed on a farm, the owner was away for the week so Dean considered it perfect. 

As they were running down the old country road together they ran past the shed they had used and kept smirks hidden when they saw police tape covering the door. 

“Looks like they found her Sammy,” Dean said after they had passed. “Think they’ll know it was me?”

“Probably,” Sam replied. 

It didn’t bother them, the idea that they would recognize a pattern across the last three victims in town. They may even connect the pattern with other towns the boys have stayed in. But, at the end of the day, it didn’t matter because they didn’t know it was Dean. 

“Do you have an idea of who you want?” Sam asked. 

“A dude this time. ‘Ve had too many girls lately,” Dean replied, turning down a side street so they could loop back to the motel. “Gonna come with me, Sammy, come and watch me?” 

“You know I will.”

Dean smiled, “good. I’m gonna try out that new knife you got me.”

“Have you not already? I thought you used it last time?” 

He shook his head, before slowing. They had stopped in the middle of nowhere, the nearest house was a fair while away, but there was a tool shed in a field. A perfect location for Dean to take the next victim. The two of them jumped over the fence and snuck into the shed. It was small, no bigger than a double bed, with a set of shelves on a wall. No windows but there were a few holes in the walls. Inside was dark, grim was on the wall and something was dripping in a corner. 

“Looks like a typical horror movie set,” Sam remarked. 

“Then it’s perfect,” Dean replied, his grin causing Sam to roll his eyes. 

They only stayed there for a few moments, Dean decided it was perfect, and then the two of them continued their run. The town was in the middle of nowhere itself and with them being so far out, they didn’t see anyone else. Just the way they liked it. 

“We need to go to the shop when we get back,” Dean said. The motel was in their sights already, it hadn’t taken them long to run the mile. “Want to come in with me?”

“Nah, I’ve gotta book I want to read.”

“Sam,” Dean sighed, “not that one again.”

“I’m not doing anything bad with it!” 

“You can not read a legitimately satanic book in front of our hunter father. If dad caught you with that, he’d-well I don’t even know what he would do.”

He didn’t seem to care like Dean did, he just shrugged in response. He didn’t care what John thought about him reading that book. It didn’t matter to him as long as he got to read it. 

Dean frowned at his brother, “Sam, you can’t read that today, dad’s due home.”

“Why can’t I read if you’re off killing people?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“No, that’s that. You’re not reading that book and I will burn it if I have to.”

Sam groaned and muttered under his breath but in the end, nodded and promised that he wouldn’t even get it out of its case when dad was around. He wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t want to upset Dean too much, especially when he was still antsy. 

When they got back to the motel, the Impala was sitting outside. The boys looked at each other and shrugged, John wasn’t supposed to get back until later. He had called last night and said he was 24 hours away. 

“Hi boys,” John said when they walked in. He was sitting on the sofa and looked fine, no external injuries they could see. “Where were you two?”

“Run,” Dean replied, “how was the hunt?”

John’s eyes flickered over to Sam for just a moment, but the fear was shining through. Both Sam and Dean stiffened when they saw it. “It was -uh- oh, ya know, good. Run of the mill vampire case, in and out sort of style.”

He was lying. 

“Right, sounds easy,” Dean replied, moving ever so slightly to stand in front of Sam. He couldn’t tell you why he did it, it was just instinct to protect him. Sam and Dean knew their father almost as well as each other, and they knew when he was lying. “Thought you’d be back later.”

“So did I. What are you boys doing for the rest of the night?”

“Grocery shopping,” Sam replied, “we were about to leave.”

He nodded and lent his back in his chair. The brothers left without another word to their father, they took the car, the thought that Dean couldn’t legally drive not on their minds. He had learned how to drive earlier in the year and was better than anyone else Sam had been in the car with. 

“So, something’s up with dad.”

Sam hummed in response. 

“What do you think it is? Maybe he found out about, about the uh, killing.”

“He looked at me.”

“Maybe he found out about at the book?”

“From a group of vampires?”

Dean shook his head, “he was lying about that as well.”

Again, Sam hummed. 

“This is serious, what are we gonna do if he knows?”

“I’m sure you can figure it out,” Sam replied with a grin.

“I am not killing our father.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Pulling the car to the side of the road quickly Dean reached over and grabbed the front of Sam’s shirt. He pulled his brother right up beside him so they were face to face, their noses nearly pressing against each other. “This is serious, Sam, stop fucking around.”

“Damn, okay, sorry.”

“I get that you think this is funny, but it’s not. Dad would flip if he found out about anything.” 

“Okay, I get it, sorry.”

Dean let go of Sam’s shirt and patted his chest, sighing at his brother. Sam slid away from Dean a little, enough that Dean could still hold his hand as he continued the drive to the store. 

“He’s gonna find out eventually. About it all.” 

“We can’t let that happen.”

Sam shook his head, “he will.”

“You know that, huh?” Dean asked, sending a concerned look at Sam. “One of your weird physic things?”

“Guess so, I just know we won’t keep it from forever.”

“Well, we can keep it a secret for as long as we can.” 

Shrugging, Sam kept silent. Thinking. His physic thing, that’s what Dean called it, was never wrong. He was able to guess what would happen. No, he didn’t guess it, he just knew what was going to happen. Sometimes it would come in dreams or visions, but sometimes, if he thought about something hard enough he would know the outcome. Not always, it was more likely that he would just end up with a headache and no answers. But on the rare occasion, he did know, he was right. 

It had always been that way though. Ever since he was little he would be able to guess what would happen next. Dean used to write them all down, just because, and then he learned about the supernatural and how their dad killed the things like Sam. So Dean kept it from his dad, made sure John never found out. In return, Sam would help Dean hide his habit as well. A win-win for everyone. 

“Him,” Dean said suddenly, pointing at a man walking down the sidewalk. “I want him.” 

As much as Sam knew what was going to happen in the future, Dean knew who he wanted to take next. He had tried to explain it to Sam once, ‘it’s not how they look or act, it’s just this voice in my head and it tells me who I need.’ Sam had replied that Dean had schizophrenia which resulted in a sharp smack around the head. Just like Sam, Dean had always known who was next. He could remember when he was really little even before Mary died, that he would see people and know that they were different. It wasn’t until later that he figured out what he needed to do with that information. 

“He’s like 50.”

“Yeah, so?”

“The younger ones last longer.”

He looked over at Sam, “you’re such a sadist.”

“Says the man who likes to cut people up in abandoned sheds.” 

“Doesn't matter. He’s the one.” 

Sam nodded and lent forward. In the glove box, there was a secret compartment that Dean had snuck in there. It was risky, considering how much John was in the car, but they needed some chloroform and handcuffs for this kind of moment. He pulled them out and handed them to Dean, along with a rag. 

They were still on the outskirts of town so Dean just pulled over with the rag in hand and tackled the man down. Within a few moments, he was knocked out, tied, gagged and in the trunk of the car. Sam sat in the front seat, watching his brother move without hesitation as he kidnapped the man. 

Once the man was secured in the trunk, Dean got into the front seat and started the car. “So, I was thinking chicken for dinner?”


	3. Chapter 3

The man was already awake when the boys arrived at the shed the next day. 

His eyes were wide and there was a small trail of blood running down the left side of his face from where Dean had punched him last night. He was still lying on the tarp Dean had spread out, wrists and ankles bound. His graying hair was messy and his blue eyes shone with fear. His wrists, normally pale, were red and bruised. He had been trying to get out. 

“Hey - oh, what’s your name?” Dean said, staring at the man, “I never got it.”

He stayed quiet, angering both of the brothers. Dean looked over at Sam, who was sitting in the corner with his book in his hands. 

“I asked you a question.”

“I’m not telling you anything.” 

“This is going to be a whole lot nicer for you if you behave,” Dean replied, kicking him in the stomach as if to prove his point. “So, play nice.”

Groaning, he curled up on himself and muttered “Daren.”

“Daren, well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Dean Winchester and that’s my little brother Sam,” Dean introduced, Sam didn’t even look up from the book. Dean rolled his eyes, “Sammy’s not really into the whole ‘serial killer’ thing. You can ignore him.” 

“You sick son of a bitch.”

“Hey now, don’t drag my mom into this. She was a lovely lady,” the grin on Dean’s face was anything but friendly. 

Grunts of pain echoed around as he pulled Daren up so he was sitting awkwardly. Once he was sitting, Dean went over to his bag and pulled out a knife. Nothing special about it, but Sam had given it to him so he wanted to savour it. Daren’s eyes widened and he started to struggle when he saw what was in Dean’s hand.

“Hey, Sammy, how much skin do you think I can take off Daren here before he dies?” Dean asked, not taking his eyes off Daren.

“Depends on how you do it.”

“He speaks.”

“Shut up.”

Dean rolled his eyes and looked over to Sam. “Seriously, how long?” 

“Depends on how you did it.” 

“Explain.”

He thought for a moment, Dean could all but see the gears turning in his head. Sam stood up and made his way to Dean, he took the knife off him and bent over Daren, tracing lines lightly down different parts of the man’s body, “if you made long slits down him, and peeled the skin back, it should be the best way. But you don’t want him to bleed out go into shock.”

“And-” Dean cut himself off, “no actually, never mind. Thanks, Sammy,” he took the knife off Sam who went back to the corner and picked up his book. 

“So, Daren, you ready?”

~~

“You’ve got blood on your elbows,” Sam commented. 

“Oh, thanks.”

They were standing over Daren, or what remained of Daren at least. He lasted a while, his legs and arms were all skinless, as well as the majority of his torso. But when Dean had started on his face was when he passed out and died. 

“Will you do it again?” Sam asked after Dean had double cheeked he was free of blood. 

“Probably. See if I can make them last longer or something.” 

“Dad’s gonna be worrying.”

“We should head home.”

“What are you going to do with the body?” 

Dean shrugged, “leave it?”

Sam didn’t respond, he went back to the corner of the room and picked up his book before stepping to stand beside the door. Dean followed suit, after taking a moment to stare at his work. It was gruesome and he loved it. 

They walked back to the motel, arriving shortly after. John was sitting there, news articles spread out around him. When they walked in he looked up and smiled, “hey, did you have a good time?” 

“Yeah,” Dean replied taking off his coat and taking Sam’s from his hands before hanging them up. “Got a new case?”

“I think so, eight pairs of siblings all randomly disappeared in the last year. Before that, twelve in ‘56 and fifteen in ‘23. Always a pair, the oldest on the first night, the younger on the second.” 

The brothers looked at each other. 

“I’m sending you two to Bobby’s. I am not using you two as bait.” 

“Cool,” Dean replied, “when do we leave?” 

“First thing in the morning.”

Dean nodded and led Sam over to the kitchen, fixing both of them a sandwich before taking him into their room. They sat on Dean’s bed and ate their food, shoulders pressed against each other. 

“You can’t read any of your books at Bobby’s,” Dean said suddenly. 

“It’s not even that bad of a book,” Sam tried to protest. 

Rolling his eyes, Dean shook his head. “Dad already thinks something is up, Sammy, we don’t him seeing that.”

“Why?”

“Sam, it is an original satanic bible. This isn’t some false religion crap. It’s the real deal, and I will not have Bobby or dad seeing either of us reading.” 

“I know. Besides, he has a whole lot that I can read.”

“Please don’t go raising any red flags. We don’t need Bobby reporting to dad.” 

“I’m not the one who likes to sk-”

“Shut up Sam.” 

Sam grinned at him and nodded, pretending to zip up his lips. Dean rolled his eyes and stood, collecting their plates and pulling Sam up as well. John was sitting in the living room when they walked in, the news on in the background. 

“Don’t forget to pack tonight,” he commented when he heard them walk in. 

“We won’t,” Dean replied dumping the dishes in the sink. The two of them walked over to the sofa and sat down. John, without looking up, handed Dean some newspaper clippings of the case he was working. He trusted his sons to help him out, and he trusted their responses to what he could be hunting. “So, it’s, what, 70 kids in 70 odd years?” Dean asked, “that’s a lot of kids.”

“I’m surprised it hasn’t raised suspicion before,” Sam added, reading a newspaper article. “I mean, back in ‘56 hunters should of been on it.”

John nodded, “we’re on it now at least. Want to stop it before any more kids go.”

“Some of them might still be alive,” Sam replied, “if the monster keeps them I mean.”

“I’ve never heard of a monster taking pairs of kids,” Dean said, “making them sick, sure, but not straight up kidnapping.”

“I know, that’s what confused me.”

Sam thought for a moment, Dean watched him in amusement. He was so easy to read sometimes. “Could be humans.”

“What?” Dean asked, “why?” 

“The gaps could be generational. I’m sure humans are capable of it-” Dean pinched Sam’s hip “-and I can’t think of a monster that does it like this,” Sam concluded. John and Dean thought it over before both agreeing, that it could be a family of humans. 

“In local news, another body was found brutally murdered in an abandoned shed only an hour ago. Little is known as of now, stay tuned tonight as we reveal more,” the news said and in the silence of the room, all of them heard it. 

Sam looked up at Dean. What looked like an innocent look shared something much bigger, much darker. Sam knew that Dean liked being known, liked the bodies to be found. It was why they never burnt them, never buried them, always left them to be found. Dean smiled back at Sam. His eyes glistening as he thought of the person’s reaction when they found Daren, or how the corner felt as he examined the cut up body. Sam watched Dean’s eyes as he smiled wider. 

John watched as well.

~~

The sun was just coming up over the horizon, Dean and Sam had both fallen back asleep as soon as John had loaded them in the car. He wasn’t surprised, he had woken them up just after four in the morning. 

Insomnia was something that was common for John Winchester, and he knew it affected both his boys, but last night had been especially bad so at three in the morning he started packing the car. 

Sam had refused to stand so John had carried him out to the car with Dean trudging behind them. By the time John had returned with their pre-packed bags, they had been asleep. He had started the car and drove out of the motel parking lot. 

He had watched in the rearview mirror as Sam shifted closer to Dean in his sleep and as Dean had unconsciously wrapped his arm around him, pulling him closer. They had always been close, ever since they were babies, and John couldn’t help but feel like their lifestyle wasn’t helping their relationship. 

His phone rang shortly after five, not uncommon for hunters, and definitely not uncommon for Bobby. That man slept even less than John sometimes, and that was saying something. 

“Bobby,” John started, “how are you?”

“Peachy,” was Bobby’s sarcastic reply. “How far away are you?”

John sighed as he thought it over, “a good twelve hours at least, depends how antsy the boys get.”

“You know I don’t mind having them with me, don’t mind in the slightest, but there’s something you’re not telling me and I’d like to know before they arrive.”

Sending a quick look in the mirror to make sure the boys were still asleep he replied. “Yeah, something’s up with the boys. I can’t tell you what it is, but, but something isn’t right.”

“Very vague.”

“I can’t explain it in any other way. Something is off.”

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, it’s stupid, but have you heard the rumours?” 

“What rumours?”

Bobby sighed, “hunters gossip more than teenage girls, you know that, and sometimes the like to gossip about your boys. Now, I’ve only heard them second hand, and I don’t like listening to gossip at the best times. But, some of the hunters think that there’s something different about your boys.”

“How?”

“Something bad.”

“Like the supernatural bad or like, not-supernatural bad?”

“A bit of both.”

There was silence on the phone as John thought over what Bobby had admitted. In a messed up way, a way John didn’t want to admit, he agreed with them. He didn’t think his boys were bad, they weren’t evil in his eyes, but there was something else. As much as it pained him to say it, he couldn’t look someone in the eyes and say his boys were completely normal children. 

“John? I know this is hard, but remember that rumours are hardly ever true.”

“We’ll be at your house by dinner tomorrow,” and with that, he hung up. As he drove, the sun rising on the horizon, he thought of his boys. He thought of what he had seen. 

~~

“Behave, boys,” John said at the front door of Bobby’s house. “I’ll be back as soon as possible, and I’ll call when I get there. Thanks again, Bobby.” 

“Wouldn’t want the boys in that town any more than you,” Bobby replied, “we’ll see you soon.” 

He waved at his sons before turning and walking back to the car. Sam and Dean were left standing on Bobby’s porch, duffles in hands, watching their father drive away. Being left alone wasn’t a common occurrence anymore. When they were younger, definitely, but now they could look after themselves and would stay in a motel in whichever town John needed to be in.

“Come on in, boys, your room is all set up and dinner is about an hour away.”

Sam and Dean turned around just as the car turned the corner and followed Bobby inside. His house was exactly the same as the last time they were there, books piled high and dust sitting on every surface. It was comfortable here, welcoming. Something they didn’t feel often. 

They went to their room and both placed their bags on one of the beds, they knew they wouldn’t be using it. Once their bags were down Dean helped Sam and then himself take out a few of their things, their books, a silver knife each, and a pistol Dean had gotten when he turned ten. 

“So, Sammy, is dad going to succeed?”

“I don’t know. Is he?” 

“You’re the physic.”

Sam stuck out his tongue and didn’t respond. Instead, he hopped onto the empty bed and opened a book, it wasn’t his favorite, it was a boring old thing about Latin exorcisms but it was important and Sam could recognize that. He was almost finished anyway. Dean pulled out a small pouch from his bag and got out a knife sharpening stone before sitting beside Sam and started to sharpen his knife. 

They sat in silence, wrapped up in what they were doing and happy to just be in the others company. Words didn’t need to be spoken when they were together. 

After about fifty minutes there was knock on the door before it opened and Bobby came in, “dinner’s ready, so come on down.” 

Placing their things on the bed they followed Bobby downstairs and sat at the already made table. “I ain't no master chef,” Bobby commented as he placed down the chicken breasts and veggies on the table, “but it’ll do.”

“It looks nice, thank you,” Dean smiled, Sam nodding along. Within a few minutes all there of them had served up and were happily eating. 

“So, anything you two want to get done while you’re here?” Bobby asked. 

Dean nodded, “Sammy’s gotta practice his shooting and I’ve got to practice my Latin.” 

“Your daddy keeps you two well trained, doesn't he?”

“I guess, but it’ll save our lives, so we don’t mind,” Dean replied. 

“You two are going to be amazing hunters one day.”

Sam and Dean smiled at him, genuinely happy smiles. The idea of being anything but hunters had never crossed their minds, at least not seriously, and they knew John was a renowned hunter, living up to that was their goal. 

“Is there anything else you want to do while you’re here?” Bobby continued.

“No, we’re fine,” Dean replied. 

“I’d like to read some of your books,” Sam corrected. 

Bobby nodded at him, standing and collecting the dishes, “go ahead, as long as they’re put back in the original place.” 

“Thanks,” Sam smiled. 

“Okay, off you two go, lights out at nine.” 

Both Sam and Dean stood, practically in sync, and walked into the living room. Dean picked up a book, the top of a pile in the corner. Bobby watched him do it, he watched as Dean didn’t look at the cover, but still handed it to Sam who nodded before both continued to walk away. He couldn’t help but think it was strange, but nothing bad, nothing worth worrying over. 

After they had gone up the stairs Bobby started washing up, the Winchester brothers on his mind. 

An hour and a half later, Bobby stood from his desk and made his way upstairs. It was almost nine, and he assumed that the boys would need a reminder that it was bedtime. They were only 9 and 13 after all, not the best age for being responsible. But as Bobby walked up the stairs he tried to think of a time that the Winchesters weren’t responsible and came up empty. The way they were raised hardly made for irresponsible or untrustworthy kids. 

He knocked on the door to the room and after Dean had called out ‘enter’ he pushed open the door and stepped in. They were both sitting on one of the beds, a book in Sam’s lap and a notebook in Dean’s. 

“Lights out boys,” he said. 

“Okay,” Dean replied, closing his notebook and taking the book from Sam. “Thanks for telling us.”

Bobby took a second, he had never been thanked for sending people to bed. “What are you boys doing tomorrow?”

Sam shrugged and looked at Dean to answer. “Just training, nothing unusual.”

“Oh, can we sleep in?”

“No, Sam, we can’t. We’re not on holiday.” 

“Sleep in?” 

Dean looked over at Bobby, “yeah, dad likes us to get up early to train. So we can fit more in and all that. Sam doesn’t appreciate it much.”

“All right then, well, off to sleep both of you and I’ll see you in the morning.” 

He pulled the door closed slowly, listening to figure out when the boys would move from the bed, and from what he could tell, they didn’t until the door was closed and Bobby was already walking down the hallway. 

“Nothing’s wrong with those boys,” he muttered as he went back downstairs, “what could be wrong with them?”


	4. Chapter 4

The morning after the boys were dropped off at Bobby’s house saw them eating a simple meal of toast together. Sam and Dean were sitting right beside each other on the opposite side of the table of Bobby. 

“What are your plans today?” Bobby asked.

They looked at each and spoke, so softly that even sitting close to them, Bobby had no idea what they were saying. After a minute they looked back at Bobby and Dean spoke for the both of them, “we’ll go on our run soon, then Latin, then shooting.”

“Oh, then can we -”

“Yes, Sam, we can,” Dean interrupted. Sam grinned, not seeming to mind Dean interrupting him. In fact, he looked amused at how his big brother had reacted. 

After they ate they both took their plates over to the skin and washed, dried and put them away before leaving with a smile at Bobby. If anything, they were perfectly behaved kids, and if he was being honest, he wasn’t surprised that John was able to raise well-behaved kids, but he wasn’t surprised that he raised such strange kids. 

Bobby sighed, he could survive a few weeks with the Winchesters. 

~~

Bobby was staring at the boys, they weren’t doing anything wrong, but something wasn’t right. They were sitting on the old ratty window seat in the den of his house with a book in Dean’s lap. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but something was making him uncomfortable with how they acted. 

It had been a week to the day since they had been dropped at his doorstep and he had been silently observing them ever since. 

Dean said something quietly, only for Sam to hear, they both flicked their gazes over to Bobby for just a moment, if he wasn’t a seasoned hunter he wouldn’t have seen the movement,  then Sam laughed and nodded. Dean seemed pleased with the response, he smirked before turning the page of the book. 

He didn’t know what book they had, but it was old and heavy looking, something the average 9 and 13 year old wouldn’t be reading. Something the average 9 and 13 year old shouldn’t be reading if he was being honest. 

“Isn’t that a bit dumb?” Sam muttered just loud enough for Bobby to hear as well. If Sam meant for the older man to hear, he would never know, but he did this time. “I mean, either way, they die.”

“Yeah, it’s stupid. They also never caught a single witch.”

“So the methods didn’t even work?” 

Shaking his head, Dean got back to reading the book. Bobby got back to his as well, research for a hunter friend, but ever so often he would look at them for a moment to see what they were doing. For nearly three hours they sat there, unmoving, and from what Bobby could tell, they sat there silently. 

Once they had finished the book they stood and stretched, grinning at each other. Dean looked over at Bobby and told him they were going to go and practice shooting in the backyard, before the both of them rushed out. Hand in hand. 

Bobby felt himself go pale as he walked over to the book they had left on the window seat. He was right, no 9 or 13 year old should be reading that book. No one, in his opinion, should read that book. Even after years of hunter experience, years of seeing awful and disturbing things, that book still gave him nightmares for weeks. 

He picked the book up and walked over to the shelf from where it came. 

_ Records of the Salem Witch Trials and Beyond: The Horror of the Trials  _ stared back at him. 

“It’s just a book,” he muttered to himself, lying to himself, “it’s not that big of a deal,” and before he could think of it any further, the phone rang. 

~~

The next morning Bobby walked into his kitchen before the sun had risen to a note from Dean, they had gone for one of their weekly runs. He frowned as he read the note, not because they had gone they left every morning, but he had called it a weekly run. They went running every single day. 

Pushing that thought out of his head he decided to do some something he thought he would never do. Something his dear Karen would smack him around the head for. He was going go through their things. 

Their room was the futherest from Bobby’s and had been fitted with two single beds and a closet. He knew they probably didn’t hang things up in motels, living out of their duffles, so he had told them to hang their clothes, to settle in his house. 

The room was tidy. That was his first thought when he pushed the door open. Bobby was an old man, and he knew that, but when he was young he couldn’t remember keeping such a tidy space. Even now his entire house was full of clutter. But their room was spotless. 

“Balls,” he muttered. There was nothing that suggested anything. 

The bedside table in between the beds had two empty glasses, a knife and a pile of three books. The floor was empty, even if it needed to be vacuumed, it was empty. The closet in the corner was closed but Bobby assumed that it was empty.

One of the beds, the furthest from the door, was obviously slept in. It was made but still ruffled slightly. The other bed, however, looked like it hadn’t been moved since they got to the house. Only the pillow looked like it had been moved.

“Have they been sleeping in the same bed?” 

Both duffle bags sat on the second bed, full of clothes. He opened the closet and wasn’t surprised to see it empty. 

“Looks like they didn’t want to settle in.” 

When he heard the front door creak open downstairs he left the room as quickly as he could. He did not want to be caught in the middle of their room, snooping through their things. In his haste, he accidently left the closet door open. 

~~

“Thanks, Bobby, we’ll be down before dinner,” Dean said before the two of them left the kitchen. They had returned to the house, eaten quickly, and then left again. When Bobby was preparing their lunch they had returned, out of breath and covered in dirt. After they had eaten the sandwich they had stood, Dean had spoken and they ran off. 

The shower turned on a moment later, and in a fit of curiosity he walked upstairs. Why? He didn’t know, it was a dumb idea and probably an invasion of privacy, but he needed to know. He could find neither Sam or Dean so he could only assume that they were in their bathroom together. Deciding that he couldn’t both with that problem he turned and walked back downstairs. 

“Think he’s gone?” Sam asked. 

Dean nodded, “he’s downstairs.”

“How do you know?”

“Heard him, wonder why he was up here?”

“The closet was open.”

“Pardon?”

Sam nodded, “the closet door was open when I went in there to get the clothes. I swear, and it was closed when we left.”

“So he went through our things?”

“The bags weren’t moved, so I think he just looked at our room.”

“Still, that’s not okay,” Dean replied and reached over Sam to get the shampoo. He poured some into his brother’s hair and then his own, washing it out of his first he bought the shower head down and rinsed out Sam’s as well. “Why would he?”

Looking at his brother, Sam frowned, “maybe dad told him to?”

“Why would dad tell him to look through our stuff?”

“Well, maybe dad just asked him to keep an eye on us. He took that to mean, snoop through our things,” Sam replied. “Or maybe he just likes knowing who’s staying at his house.” 

Dean rolled his eyes and turned the shower off, reaching out he got both of them towels and helped Sam step out. “It’d make more sense that dad told him to keep an eye on us.”

“So dad knows?”

“Doubt it. If dad knew we wouldn’t be standing here.”

“Dean?”

Instantly Dean was in ‘protective big brother’ mode. Sam’s voice was so small and sad, “what’s up, Sammy?”

“Would dad kill us?”

“What?” Dean asked, shock clearly in his voice. “What do you mean?”

“If dad found out about what we do would he kill us? Would he think we we’re monsters?”

His voice shook as he spoke, “no. I’ll never let anyone hurt you, Sammy,” both boys could hear the lie in Dean’s voice. 

~~

“John, do you know that your boys  _ shower _ together?” 

Sighing over the phone, John nodded even though Bobby couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I thought so.”

“Why on earth did you not stop that?” 

“I didn’t want to think about it, if I’m being honest.”

“Dean is 13, John, and you’re letting him shower with his brother.”

Again, John sighed, “how am I supposed to - to stop that?” 

“Tell Dean he isn’t allowed to get in the shower with his  _ brother _ ?”

“You try that, look that boy in the eye and tell him ‘no’ when it comes to Sam.” 

“Are you trying to tell me that you’re scared of Dean?”

John laughed, “no, I’m not scared of my son. I’m scared of what he would do if he was denied anything to do with Sam. They’re close.”

“Close doesn't begin to describe it.”

“I know.”

“Look, I’ll keep my eye on them, and I’ll get back to you later. But John?”

“Yeah.”

Bobby sighed, “you’re going to have to have a long talk with your boys.”

~~

It had been two weeks since the Winchester brothers had arrived, two weeks of them trying their best to be regular kids for Bobby and two weeks of Bobby spying on two kids.  

Lord, he felt like a creep.

But at the same time he knew what the hunter community was like and how ruthless they could be once a rumour was spread wide enough. He didn’t want these boys getting the brunt of the hunters because of a rumour. So he watched them, making mental notes on how they acted. He was going to tell John what he saw, and tell him what he needed to change within his boys. 

They were sitting in the den and they were helping him research for another hunter. Turns out both boys were smart, Bobby knew they were smart, but he didn’t realize just how smart they were. Within moments they had figured out what it was, and they were now looking for ways to kill it. 

Bobby figured out what was making him so uncomfortable about them. It was how they sat. 

Where ever they were, whatever they were doing, they were sitting right next to each other, right next to each other. Shoulders pressed together or Dean would have his arm wrapped around Sam’s shoulder or waist. 

He figured it out, they didn’t look like brothers. They looked like lovers.

In a voice meant only for Dean, Sam stated, ‘he’s staring at us.’

‘Ignore him.’ 

‘How can I ignore someone who’s staring at me?’

‘Just do it.’

Watching in silence Bobby tried to hear what they were saying, or even lip read something, but he couldn’t. When they talked like that no one else could understand them. They were no longer speaking to others. In that moment they were only with each other, and it was clear that they thought that.

‘He’s still staring.’

‘Stare back.’

‘Dean!’

‘Fine,’ he stood and pulled Sam up with him, ‘come on, let’s go out.’

Bobby watched them leave, watched as Sam spoke to Dean in that silent voice, and watched as Dean grinned. A grin that sent a shiver down Bobby’s spine. He had been wrong. Something was very, very, wrong with those boys. 


	5. Chapter 5

“Something’s wrong with your boys, John, you were right, I can’t put my finger on it but it’s there,” Bobby whispered. 

John sighed, not making eye contact, “I know.”

“I still don’t believe the other hunters, but, something’s up.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Bobby looked around, he had learned that those boys could be sneaky if they wanted to, “do they ever go anywhere by themselves? I don’t think I ever saw them separated.” 

“Yeah, they’re never not together,” John replied, “it’s been like that since they were babies.” 

“Look, no offense, but you didn’t raise those boys right. I’m not exactly surprised that they’re different, that they’re so codependent,” Bobby paused as he heard the floorboards overhead creaking, John seemed to notice too if his quick look to the stairs indicated anything. “But, at the same time, I don’t know how to say it, they’re not evil.”

Sam grinned at Dean, wiggling his eyebrows at his older brother. They were lying on the ground in the bedroom listening intently to the conversation below. Dean frowned at Sam, not appreciating the look. 

‘I’m not evil.’

‘You kill people,’ Sam whispered back, ‘that makes you evil.’

‘Shut up, Sam.’

For a moment they were silent before both of them burst into laughter, not really caring that they were alerting the men below them. 

‘Speaking of, how are you going? It’s been what, three weeks since we arrived? Aren’t you getting antsy?’

‘Not really, I guess it’s ‘cause we’ve been away from people. Haven’t seen anyone.’

‘So you don’t think about slicing me or Bobby up?’

‘I’ve never thought about you in that light.’

Sam looked amused, really? Am I not good enough?’

‘Don’t be dumb.’

“Boys! Come downstairs!” John called, interrupting Sam. They both jumped up and silently carried themselves down to the kitchen where they knew the adults were. John didn’t seem surprised to see them, but as always, Bobby looked taken aback. “We’re heading out, are you packed?”

They nodded.

“Good, go up and get your things, we’re leaving as soon as you’re down.”

Both of them turned and as silently as they entered, left. 

“You’re going to have your hands full, and if you want to help them, you’re going to have a long road ahead of you. But, they need that help, John, more than you think.”

“When did you become a kid expert?”

“Last three weeks.”

John looked at the ceiling, sighing lowly, “I know they do and I’m going to help them. Get them better, they’re just close, how hard can it be?” Bobby didn’t look too convinced, and by John’s tone, he wasn’t convincing himself either. 

~~

“What is this place?” Dean asked as they pulled into a parking spot. John had just pulled into a rundown looking bar, complete with the sign flickering on and off, one broken window with a neon sign and a deteriorating roof. There were a few cars already there, even though it was mid-afternoon and the place looked empty. 

“The Roadhouse.”

“The what?”

“A hunter’s bar. Jo Harvelle runs it, I worked a few cases with her husband last year.”

Dean nodded, “and why are we here?”

“Needed a stop from driving, besides, I wanted to see what was going on. Be on your best behavior in there, I don’t want them thinking I raised bad behaved kids.” John didn’t add that he wanted the rumours about his 

“Okay,” Dean replied, obviously not believing his father. “We will.”

Sam looked up at Dean, and Dean looked at Sam. John sighed and got out of the car, breaking the boy’s stare. They followed behind him silently. Standing close to each other but they weren’t touching now.

Inside the bar was just as run down as the outside, there were four men sitting around the bar, each with a drink in one hand and a journal in the other. A lady around John’s age was standing behind the counter, washing a glass, when they walked in. 

“John Winchester, long time no see,” the lady called out. All the men turned to look as well, and the boys saw the looks they got. She put the glass down and rounded the bar, hugging John and whispering in his ear. 

He rubbed the back of his neck once they had pulled back, “hi, Ellen. How are you?”

“As good as can be. You?”

“As good as can be.”

She smiled, “and these must be your boys.”

“Sam and Dean,” he replied, gesturing to the relevant child. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you boys, please sit.”

John herded the boys to the bar and got them sitting on two bar stools beside him. Ellen placed a cup of scotch in front of John and two glasses of water in front of the kids. They didn’t miss the side glances everyone was sending them. 

“So, what brings you back?” She asked once they had their drinks. 

“A case.”

“What one?”

“I think you know.”

She nodded, “I do.”

“Anything new?”

“Yeah. A few hunters have told me things here and there, most unofficial, and all drunk, so don’t take it to heart. But-” she turned around and pulled out a box from under the whiskey, in the box where a whole lot of case files, she pulled one out. “Here is everything I’ve heard,” she handed the file to John. 

“Thank you, Ellen, it means a lot.”

Picking up another glass she nodded, “it’s okay. Now, finish your drink and go and use one of the rooms.” 

“It’s okay, we should head off soon.”

“When was the last time you slept?”

John didn’t reply.

“Take a room, have a nap, the boys can meet Jo.”

He sighed before nodding, “you’re a godsend, Ellen, I swear.”

“I know.”

Grinning, he knocked back his drink, told the boys to listen to Ellen and left them without another word. Ellen smiled at them and was about to speak when someone called out for her, she held up one finger before leaving to tend to him. 

They sat at the bar talking to one another about the roadhouse, no one else could hear them, but they were talking. Sam was pointing out how every man in the place had at least three weapons on him when one of the men slid off his seat and walked over to them. 

He was probably John’s age, maybe a few years younger, but he looked just as mean. Like a hunter, he started down at Sam and Dean, anger glistening in his eyes. “So, you’re the Winchester kids?”

“Never meet any others,” Dean replied, “so I assume so.”

He laughed, and Dean was on high alert, this man was dangerous. He could count a knife on his thigh and a gun on his hip. Sam noticed the way Dean’s eyes swept over the man, noticed how Dean’s fingers started twitching when the man shifted closer to them.

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you lot.”

“Hear that Sammy, we’re famous.” 

“For all the wrong reasons.” 

“How so?” Dean asked.

The man scoffed, “don’t play dumb little boy. We all know the truth about you and your brother, you’re just another monster who needs to be put down. If your daddy wasn’t here I would shoot you myself.”

‘Dean?’ Sam said. He whipped his head around to look at his brother, ignoring the man for a moment. 

‘Yeah?’

‘What’s happening?’

Seeing the fear in his little brother’s face he smiled softly, ‘don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.’

‘Something’s not right.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He’s not right, Dean, something’s wrong.’

Dean pursed his lips, ‘don’t worry.’

“Can I interrupt you staring longingly into your brother’s eyes there?” The man snapped.

“Of course,” Dean replied, staring at him in the eyes. “And, by the way, my daddy’s not here.”

He was about to reply, his hand twitching towards his gun when Ellen came back. She glared at him with such venom that he flinched back. “Get out of my bar,” she growled. He frowned but nodded once, stepping back he picked up his leather-bound journal and walked out. 

“Pay no attention to Gordon Walker,” she said once he had left. “He’s an angry man who doesn’t deserve a moment of your thoughts.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am wasn’t planning on it,” Dean replied, sending her a charming smile. 

Sam held back a scoff, his brother was already planning a hundred-and-one ways to kill that man in the most painful ways possible.

~~

Jo was a pretty girl, Sam and Dean couldn’t deny that. She was the same age as Sam, light blonde hair and a fiery attitude. Ellen introduced them after Gordon had left the bar. She was playing outside, running around with a knife in her hand. Ellen had yelled at her to stop, took the knife and left them alone. Jo had frowned at her mother’s back before turning to the boys. 

“Hi, who are you?”

“Dean and this is Sam.”

“Is your dad a hunter?”

Sam tugged on Dean’s hand, ‘I’ve never met another hunter’s kid.’

‘Neither,’ Dean replied without turning from Jo. “Yeah, John Winchester.”

“Oh, I know him. He’s always talking about you.”

“Really?” Dean asked, “hopefully it’s good.”

She nodded, her eyes never leaving Dean, “it is.” 

‘She likes you,’ Sam said, watching as Jo continued to stare at Dean, even when he turned to look at Sam. 

‘What?’

‘She likes-’

‘I heard you, what do you mean?’

He grinned, ‘she hasn’t stopped staring at you.’ 

“I was about to train a bit, want to spar with me?” Jo asked, interrupting what Dean was about to say. She looked a little confused, which made sense seeing as she just watched them stare at each for a moment and seemingly communicate. “Mom hardly lets me practice, she doesn’t want me to be a hunter but-”

“Wait, why is she raising you around hunters if she doesn’t want you to be a hunter?” Dean asked, “doesn't make much sense.” 

She shrugged, “after my dad died she freaked. Do you want to spar?”

“Sure,” Dean replied, “but -ah- Sammy and I are pretty good.”

“Cool, let’s go.” 

The three of them walked further away from the roadhouse, which made Sam a little uneasy if he was being honest, with Gordon Walker around. There was a line of trees at the back of the property and just in front of that was a patch of clear grass. Perfect for sparing. Sam and Dean stood and looked at each other. 

‘Do we go easy on her?’ Sam asked. 

‘No idea, Sammy, I don’t really want to kill her.’

‘Is that a first?’

‘You little -’

“Are we going to this?” Jo asked, interrupting again.

Sam and Dean turned their attention back to her and they both nodded. They went first, sparring against each other. Something they did most days, and they didn’t hold back while the fought. Punch after punch, a few dirty moves, and a lot of pushing later and a smirking Sam was straddling his big brother. 

‘Got you!’

‘Yeah, you did, let me up.’

They both stood up. Jo was staring at them in shock and excitement. “You guys are good.” 

“Thanks,” Dean replied, “want a turn?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to fight you,” she replied, unease clear in her voice.

“You should try,” Dean replied. “Pair with Sammy first, he’s closer to your size.” 

She still looked uneasy but nodded and got into position, Sam followed her lead and stood opposite her. It was obvious that she wasn’t completely happy with what was happening and Sam was about to say she didn’t have to do anything when she lunged at him. 

Jo surprised the both of them, she was a good fighter. Nothing compared to Sam or Dean, but still good. She fought with Sam three times, Sam won all three, and then she tried with Dean. After he won that round she decided to go back inside. The brothers decided to stay out and practice some more. 

The sun was setting over the line of the trees when they had enough and stopped. Each round only lasted a few minutes and they were evenly matched, they won about the same amount as each other. It came naturally, especially after they had been sparing together for years. They knew each other, knew how the other moved and how to counteract it. By the time they went inside they were both hot and sweaty, and a little bit bruised but grinning and laughing. 

“You boys are good fighters,” Ellen said as she placed their meals down. They were sitting with their dad on one of the tables in the bar, eating before they left. 

“Thank you, we practice a lot,” Dean replied. 

“I can tell.”

After she had gone back to the bar John spoke, “we’re heading straight to California. There’s a case there I’ve just picked up.”

“Awesome,” Dean replied, not paying attention. He was looking out of the window. He could have sworn he saw Gordon Walker peering in just moments before. Sam seemed to pick up on what Dean was thinking as he was staring out the window as well.

“Boys?” John called, both of them snapped their heads to him. “You good?”

“Sorry, thought I saw something.”

“No need to be worried here, you’re perfectly safe.”

Sam held back a scoff, ‘that’s what we’re worried about.’

‘Don’t be so rude, Sammy.’

‘He can’t hear us.’

“School starts back up next week, I’m sure you know, but I’ll enroll you in California for a bit. We should be there for at least a month.”

Dean nodded, “what is it?”

“Werewolf I think.”

Now he knew something was out there. Dean nodded at his father’s words but continued to stare out the window. Sam knew what was happening, and also knew that he needed his father to stop staring at Dean like he was insane. So, he started talking, and talking, and talking. Something Dean told him he was good at. Just talking, about everything. John wasn’t particularly interested in what Sam was saying but he listened anyway. 

After dinner was done Dean stood, dragging Sam up with him. “When are we leaving?”

“As soon as I pay.”

“I left my knife outside somewhere, we’ll hurry.” 

John sighed as he watched his sons run out of the bar and then he glared as he watched the other hunters stare at his sons as well.

~~ 

“Can we just slit his throat and then leave?” Sam asked, loud enough for the gagged Gordon to hear. “Dad’s gonna be pissed.”

“I want him to suffer.”

“We don’t have time.”

Dean grinned, “we don’t have to be here.” 

He reached into his back pocket and brought out his knife, cutting out the man’s tongue was easy, even when he tried to bite. Breaking all his fingers was even easier. Dean had Sam run to the car and take some of the rope from the trunk, and once he had that he tied the man to one of the trees. 

“You fucked with the wrong kids.”

Gordon tried to speak but found it was a lot harder to talk when he didn’t have a tongue. 

“What’s that? Are you apologizing?” Dean paused for a moment and pretended to listen. “Too late, sorry.”

“Are you done?” Sam asked. 

“Is this not fun?” Dean asked, turning to face his brother. 

Sam shrugged, “dad’s going to be waiting.”

“Fine. Gordon, let’s hope no one finds you out here. They shouldn’t especially since you can’t talk and all that.”

“Someone will find him. Even if he’s dead, and we’ll be the suspects.”

“Two kids against a fully trained hunter?” 

“Don’t act so stupid.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “let them come. We’ll just kill them as well.”

Sam didn’t say anything, made eye contact with Gordon and then walked away with his brother following. John was standing beside the car when they arrived. “You boys took a while,” he said after they had all gotten into the car. Both boys were in the back, ready to sleep on the way to California.

“Sorry, dad, it took us a while,” Dean replied. 

‘Yeah, cause Dean’s a primadonna.’

‘Am not.’

‘Keep telling yourself that,’ he got a clip around the ears by his brother for that comment.

John watched the interaction carefully, the blood stains on Dean’s jeans not going unnoticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the little wait, I got super bad writer's block! 
> 
> Tell me what you think :)


	6. Chapter 6

“I’ll be back by tomorrow morning. If you haven’t heard from me by five tomorrow night, call Bobby. Don’t open the door, don’t answer the phone and don’t leave,” John instructed as he packed his bag. 

‘We’re leaving right?’ Sam called out to Dean.

‘Yeah,’ Dean nodded. “Don’t worry dad, we won’t leave and we know the rules.” 

John sighed and looked at them, “thanks, boys. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Sam stood from the bed and walked over to his brother who was locking the door to the musty motel. “Do you think he’ll be back this time?” 

“Yeah, it’s a simple werewolf. Easy.”

Looking pleased Sam nodded and headed to the kitchen. They were in California, it had only taken a few hours to get there from the roadhouse. John had spent the last two days doing research on the werewolf, figured out who it was (a local school teacher who had been targeting kids families) and was going out to catch and kill him. The town itself was small, the kind of community that everyone knew everyone. The worst kind of town for a hunter since they always blamed the newbie first. They would be gone almost as soon as John got back.

The motel wasn’t too bad, just unused and therefore a little rundown. But, it had a vending machine, the TV worked well, and the bed was big enough for the brothers so they considered it a win. 

“What do you want for dinner?” Sam asked looking in the cupboards. 

“What do we have?”

“Mac’n’cheese?”

Dean nodded, “sounds good,” he went and sat on the small table in the kitchen and watched as Sam made their dinner. They took turns now that Sam was old enough to cook, each night a different brother would cook.

“Any urges?” Sam asked as he stirred a pot. “Are you leaving tonight?”

“You seem very interested in leaving right now, Sammy, what’s up?”

Sam shrugged, “just want to know.”

“Probably. Don’t know when I can now.”

“After dinner?”

“Yeah.”

Suddenly Sam let out a bark of laughter, “we can’t run into dad.”

“No,” Dean replied with amusement, “he wouldn’t take that well. At least, I don’t think he would.”

“I think he’d be pretty displeased.”

They smiled at each other, a stupid conversation really, but still a fun one. Neither brother knew what their father would do if he found out, and neither brother wanted to know. That was a question best left unanswered. 

Two bowls of mac'n'cheese were served and Sam sat opposite Dean. They ate in near silence, Dean praised Sam on the food, and then he washed the dishes while Sam got ready to go. 

Their dad was going to the teacher's house, the suburbs of the town. Dean had seen the map. So it stood to reason that they go away from there, get as far away from their dad as possible, the worst part of town was always the best place to go. It was easier to find someone who wouldn't be missed from a place full of drug addicts and homeless people. It was generally easier to hide a body in that type of place as well.

“Dean?” Sam said as they walked down the road. 

“Yeah?”

“If the hunters find Gordon-”

“When.”

Sam looked up at him, “what?”

“They’ll find him, no doubt.” 

“When the hunters find Gordon, and if they figure out it’s us, connect the rumours and realize it’s all true, will they hunt us?”

Dean pursed his lips, on one hand, he didn’t want to scare his brother but on the other, he didn’t want to lie. “Probably,” he replied. “A lot of them are scared of dad though, so they might leave us alone.”

Nodding, Sam stayed silent but grabbed onto his brother’s hand. Dean didn’t say anything and gripped back just as tight. If holding Sam’s hand meant Sam was less freaked, then he would hold his hand. He looked down at Sam, who was deep in thought. It was obvious, he also scrunched up his nose and frowned deeply. For Dean, Sam was the easiest thing to read. He was scared of the hunters. “I thought you were the physic, you tell me what’s going to happen.”

“You know that’s not how it works.”

“Worth a shot. Can’t you figure out how it works so we can win lotto or -”

Sam doubled over, his hands flying to his head as he groaned. Dean caught him instantly and settled them both of the cold ground. Sam was on his knees and hunched over while Dean sat down and held Sam up.

“Sammy?”

_ There was a man walking down an empty street, the rain was steadily pouring and the rain was barreling down the road. He was early twenties at the latest. His grey hoodie covered his face and he walked hunched over and limping. He was injured, badly as well, and seemed to be upset. He was muttering, something about being crazy, nothing corehent. The man stopped under a street sign, the corner of Stone Street and Hart Street. A train was heard in the distance as a semi truck came around the corner, the headlights reflecting off the wet road.  _

_ The scene shifted. It was the same man but he was tied to a chair, both wrists handcuffed to a chair leg and his legs bound with tape. Tears were streaming down his face and he was sobbing but his hoodie still covered his face. Another figure stepped forward, he was obviously an older teenager, but there were no details about him shown. He ran a knife down his chest, ripping open the top and drawing blood. The man howled out, begging for his life, the other figure just laughed.  _

_ Again, the scene shifted. The man was cut up and gagged, lying on his back but still tied to the chair. Through the gag, you could hear muffled pleas and screams. Something the other figure ignored as he continued to slice the man up. Then another figure stepped out, this one significantly shorter than the first. He had his own knife in his hand and with a quick downward motion, the man stopped screaming.  _

_ A bright white light flashed, so bright that it hurt to look at, and then it was just the two figures standing beside a stream. They were talking quietly and both looked worried but at the same time, excited.  _

“Sammy!”   


“Dean?” Sam’s voice was slurred, and his head was limp in Dean’s hands. 

“Sam, thank god, are you okay?”

“I don’t know what happened.”

“You had a vision, didn’t you?” Dean didn’t wait for a reply, “let’s go back to the hotel.”

It took them a few minutes to get Sam back to standing, he was still leaning heavily on Dean and was basically carried back the short distance to the motel. When they arrived Dean helped Sam lie down on the bed before getting him some water. 

“Are you okay?” He asked once Sam was semi-conscious.  

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Was it a vision?”

He nodded and struggled to sit up, Dean jumped into action and helped him up so he was resting against the headboard. Sam was still a little confused, he couldn’t really remember anything that happened before or after the vision but everything that happened in the vision was still crystal clear. He took another sip of his water and looked over at Dean who was staring at him with worry in his eyes. 

“What happened?” Dean asked.

“There was a man, he was walking, and then it changed so he was tied to a chair with someone cutting him. Then there were two people and one of them stabbed him. It was so bright after that, like looking in the sun or something, and then it was the two men talking by a stream.”

“Was it us?” Dean asked, “did you know him?”

Sam shook his head, “I didn’t see him and the people were older.”

“Us in the future or something, why would you be having visions of random people?” 

“I don’t know but it felt important. Like, it felt like I needed to know.”

“I’m sure it’ll work out.”

Shrugging Sam started taking off his shoes and jacket. All he wanted to do was sleep, preferably with Dean cuddling up to him. He felt like he weighed a hundred tonnes as he tried to take off his clothes. Dean sighed and shook his head, leaning over he helped his brother out of his outfit before doing himself and settling them both into the bed, content to sleep next to Sam.

~~

“Heya boys,” John said when he walked into the motel, it was late afternoon already, almost time to call Bobby. “You okay?”

“Hi dad,” they both chimed for the sofa where they were sitting together, Sam wrapped up in Dean’s arms. Dean nodded at his dad’s question, “we’re fine. How was the hunt?” 

“Easy.”

Dean raised his eyebrow, his dad was covered in blood, “really?”

“Not my blood.”

“Was it the teacher?” Sam asked. 

He nodded in reply, “got there just in time to save the latest victim, another parent of a kid in his class. The mom was freaked but promised not to say anything, so we’re in the clear for tonight. We’ll leave tomorrow morning. Already have the next case.”

“What?” Dean asked.

“Some sort of spirit that kills every three years, like clockwork, I’ll look into it when I get there. Right now, I want to clean up, I want to go out and get dinner and then I want to relax for the night. What are you boys wanting?”

The brothers looked at each, ‘pizza?’ Sam suggested.

‘I was going to say burgers.'

‘I’m in the mood for pizza.'

‘Burgers.’

John laughed, sure, he couldn’t hear his sons, but he knew them well enough to know what they were saying, “to celebrate a successful hunt you can both get whatever you want.”

“Nice!” Sam said at the same time Dean replied “awesome!” 

Again, John laughed and walked into the bathroom leaving them alone. The TV had been muted when John had come in and neither brother could be bothered reaching for the remote again, so it stayed silent. Dean poked Sam in the ribs and grinned at him, ‘you up to going out?’

‘I’m not made of glass.’

‘You freaked me out yesterday. I’ve never seen you like that,’ Dean replied. He was right, Sam had never had a vision that left him as drowsy as last night’s and he never still felt tired the next day but all day he could hardly move he was so sleepy. ‘I don’t want you to get even more hurt or something.’

‘I’ll be fine, I can walk to the car.’

Dean didn’t look convinced that his brother was telling the truth but he nodded anyway. ‘Ok, they’re not too far away anyway. You can have your weird vegetable pizza while I get my awesome and actually tasty burger with dad.’

‘Your burgers are always so unhealthy!’ 

‘Yeah, but they taste nice.’

‘So does my pizza.’

‘You’re pizza has - like - spinach on it. That’s basically illegal.’

‘Is not!’

“It is, I swear.’ 

Sam pouted, frowning at his brother before hitting his shoulder, ‘my pizza is nice.’

‘Did you just hit me?’ Dean smirked, shifting them so he was straddling Sam on the sofa and pinning his shoulders down. He was going easy on Sam since he was still drowsy. ‘Your pizza is gross, say that and I’ll let you up,’ he commanded, pushing Sam down further to prove his point. 

‘I’m not saying that,’ Sam replied, bucking his hips up as hard as he could. Dean lost his balance for a moment and Sam used that to throw him off and onto the floor before following him and straddling Dean. ‘Now, tell me my pizza is better than your burger.’

Dean shook his head and grabbed Sam’s shoulders. Sam knew what he was going to do so he tightened his legs around Dean’s waist and held on as Dean tried to flip him off. Sam was able to hold on, annoying his brother, who then flipped himself over instead and rolled them over so he was on top. ‘Burger is better. Say it.’

‘Never!’ Sam replied and punched Dean in the side so that he could roll them to be on top, ‘pizza’s better.’

‘Burger,’ Dean grunted and pulled on Sam’s hair so that his back bent backward and Dean could flip them once again. ‘Say it,’ he said and pinned Sam’s hands down on the floor. 

“Boys, are you trying to kill each other?” John asked when he had walked out of the bathroom. “Because I’d prefer you didn’t.”

“We’re not trying to kill each other,” Dean called, “just a friendly disagreement.”

John looked amused, “okay, well, can we go and get dinner now? Or, do you need to keep punching each other?”

“When Sam admits my food is better, we can go.”

“My food is nicer!”

Dean shook his head like a concerned parent, “where did we go wrong? Thinking spinach and lettuce is better than meat and cheese?”

“Who puts lettuce on a pizza?” Sam shrieked.

“You probably.”

“Let your brother up,” John said, “we need to go,” when Dean didn’t move he went over to them and picked him right off Sam, dropping him on the floor. “Let’s go.” 

The brothers stood up and smiled at their father. ‘Pizza is still better.’

‘Burgers.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I based the brother in this chapter on me and my sister :)
> 
> Let me know what you guys think!! Also, we're halfway done now!


	7. Chapter 7

_ 4 Years Later _

~

“Samuel Winchester get back in here.”

“No!”

“Sam, you listen to me, you’re acting like a brat of a child.”

“You listen to me, you’re making my life a living hell!” 

John glared at his youngest son, “Sam, sit down.”

“Why? So you can tell me that I’m not good enough? Why would I do anything you want me to do?” Sam asked, tears gathering in his eyes, “I’m not your puppet,  _ dad _ , I’m an actual person with actual feelings. You know what a feeling is, right?” 

‘Sammy, please,’ Dean pleaded from his place on the bed. 

‘Why can’t you back me up?’

He frowned sadly, ‘I always back you up Sammy, and I always will, but please just tonight let it go.’

“Bastardus igne mori,” Sam muttered out loud. Dean looked wounded at the words, Sam rolled his eyes at his brother before turning to face his father. “Fine, sorry.”

“The apology of a lifetime,” John muttered but nodded nonetheless. Sam walked from the front door to the bed and sat back down beside Dean, waiting for his father to continue. “I know, God I know, you don’t like every aspect of your life - especially you Sam but just as much Dean. For that, I am sorry, but I’ve raised you to be safe out there.”

Dean rubbed his hand across Sam’s lower back, ‘you know we’re a magnet for trouble. We’d be dead if we weren’t hunters.’

‘I know,’ Sam sighed. ‘But still-’

‘But what you said about dad, you can’t say that. Never. Bastardus igne mori is not something to be said about him.’

‘He doesn’t speak Latin that well.’

Rolling his eyes, Dean replied, ‘he knows it well enough to know what Bastardus igne mori means and I’m not sure he’d like a curse placed on him.’

‘Don’t be dramatic, it’s not a curse.’

‘Die in a fire, bastard?’

‘A suggestion.’

‘Sam!’

John cleared his throat, “I don’t know what you boys are talking about, but listen to me now. I don’t want you to hate your life, I don’t think of you boys as puppets, and yes, Sam, I know what a feeling is-” Sam held back a laugh at his words “- I want you to be happy. But, I want you to be prepared. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” both of them replied. 

He sighed and squared his shoulders, “I’m going to get dinner. Don’t kill each other while I’m out.”

“Of course not,” Dean replied, elbowing a smirking Sam. Once the door was closed and they were alone in the room, Dean turned to his brother. “Can you not fight with dad for two minutes?” 

“Impossible.”

“Why do you insist on fighting with the man?”

“Why does he insist on making our lives terrible?”

Dean frowned, “if we lived a normal apple pie life, I couldn’t do the things I do.”

A wicked grin appeared on Sam’s face, “what? The murder, or the relationship with your brother?” 

“Both,” Dean replied, placing a quick kiss on Sam’s lips. “An apple pie life wouldn’t suit us.”

“Really? I think we’d be good at playing house.”

“Could you actually live like that. We couldn’t be affectionate in public, I’d have to travel to kill. We’d have to, like, try in school. Everything would suck.”

Sam was about to protest that they should be trying in school anyway when his head started pounding. Instantly, Dean was holding Sam upright and trying to keep his little brother calm as a vision hit him. They were becoming more frequent, and easier to control, which also meant they were becoming more painful for Sam, which Dean felt was highly unfair.

Tears were streaming down Sam’s face as he collapsed even more, Dean was now taking all his weight. His eyes were open but unfocused and he had gone unnaturally pale. Visions were never fun but this one seemed worse. By the end of it, he was shaking in Dean’s arms. 

After a few moments, he blinked and steadied himself. Dean helped him into a sitting position and kissed his forehead. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

Dean frowned, “what?”

Sam didn’t reply, he was blinking rapidly and was obviously thinking as quickly as he could in his state. “Do you remember, years ago, I had that vision, about the man in the hoodie?”

“Yeah.”

“I think it was the same guy?”

“Okay, why?”

“Felt like that, felt like it was the next step. He was sitting in his room, on his bed, and everything was floating around him.”

Nodding slowly, Dean looked at his brother. Sam’s visions were usually simple, something would happen and then soon afterward, it would happen in real life. The man in the hoodie had plagued both of their thoughts for years. Both of them agreed the most logical thing was that they were the people killing him, but then the younger man killed him, and Sam had never killed anyone. “So could, like, I don’t know, we are getting closer to the first vision?” Dean asked. 

“Maybe,” Sam nodded, his eyes becoming more focused. “Maybe.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine,” Dean replied, smiling down at his brother. “We’re together, we’re always going to be together so we will be okay. I love you so much, Sammy.”

Sam smiled at him and lent up, capturing Dean in a passionate kiss. 

~~

It was raining, neither boy minded too much but John was grumbling as they unloaded the car into the new motel. After they had gotten all the bags and case notes into the room John told them to leave him for a few hours. 

Once Dean made sure Sam had his raincoat on, it was a bright yellow thing and one of Dean’s hand-me-downs, they left the motel for a walk. The sun was setting already, and again neither boy cared. Walking around town for a new victim at night was a common thing for them. The rain started coming down harder, the thick clouds coating the streets in darkness. Sam and Dean were the only things out. 

They had just turned a corner, turning onto Hart street and up ahead of them was another corner, Hart, and Stone street, Sam stopped suddenly, his head whipping around in the rain. 

“Sammy?”

“This is it.”

“What?”

“The vision, he should be here!”

A man in a dark hoodie shuffled, limped, and stood underneath the street sign just as a truck drove past, it’s headlights reflecting off the wet road. The man had stopped walking, he was staring out at the road now but was stood uneasily like his leg was injured. 

“That’s him.”

Dean squinted through the rain, “he’s the guy that can levitate objects?” 

“I guess we can’t just attack him then.”

“Pretend to help him?”

“Awesome,” Dean muttered and lead them both towards him. “Hey!” He called out once they were closer, “are you okay?” 

The man turned and looked at them, a bruise forming on his face. Dean knew what that was from, he had been punched and stabbed in the thigh by the looks of it. “Please, leave me alone.”

“You’re hurt, you need help,” Dean replied, “let me take you to a hospital.”

He went paler, “no! No hospital!” 

“Okay,” Dean agreed quickly. “I have a first aid kit in my car, let me help you.”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry,” Dean smiled and wrapped his arms around his shoulders to lead him back to the car where the chloroform and ropes were. “What’s your name?”

“Max.”

This was going to be harder than normal, Dean was thinking if he could move objects with his mind. They needed to be careful. The motel wasn’t far away and it was surprisingly easy to cover the man’s face with the drugged cloth and tie him up in the trunk. They drove to the outskirts and found a place that would do. 

They found a shed, it wasn’t abandoned or anything, but it wasn’t close to anyone else so they could use it for a night. There was a chair which Max was promptly tied to, handcuffs on both wrists and tape on his legs, a strip of cloth was shoved in his mouth and they waited for him to wait. 

In the end, they only had to wait a few minutes before he started to stir, panicking when he noticed what was happening. The shelves in the shed started rattling, so Dean stepped forward and punched him in the temple. It wasn’t hard enough for him to pass out but it was hard enough to send a message.

“Max, I don’t know what makes you so special but Sammy sure thinks you are,” Dean muttered.

He started screaming through the gag, trying to talk to them, tears were running down his face as he struggled. Dean stepped forward with a laugh and ran the knife down Max’s chest, cutting his hoodie open. His body was littered with even more bruises under the hoodie. Sam couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness for him, which went as quickly as it came.

Feeling sad for the victims was a waste of time, Sam had learned that when he was a little boy, no older than four. Dean wasn’t going to stop so there was no point feeling bad. Dean came first in his mind, murder be damned. 

The knife in Dean’s hand was almost a blur as he ran it over Max’s purple and blue body. He was smiling as he watched the blood pool on the floor. Sam stood against the wall and watched as Dean sliced at every available inch of skin. It wasn’t very creative, but Dean was having fun so who was he to judge. 

“I have to kill him,” Sam said when Max started to slump down. 

“I know.”

“He’s about to die.” 

Dean sighed and lent down, he picked up the front legs of the chair and flipped it so the back was lying on the floor. Max’s head bounced on the cement and he let out a whimper through the bloodstained gag. 

“Can you?” 

Sam looked at his brother, “what?”

“Killing someone isn’t exactly easy, I know you, this is going to suck.”

“You’re good at it, and don’t seem to mind.”

“Yeah, but we’re different. Just -” he watched as Sam flipped his own knife “- make it quick and easy.”

He stepped forward and Dean blended into the shadow. As quickly as he could, Sam stabbed Max in the neck. 

There was nothing. No feeling of euphoria or big mental revelation. Dean made it seem to be an amazing experience but Sam felt the exact same as when he had arrived at the shed. To be honest, he was disappointed. He was kind of expecting something. Anything really. But there was nothing. 

“Good?” Dean asked.

“Uh- yeah.”

“Let’s get him hidden.”

Together they hurled his body onto a tarp and tied both ends so he was completely covered. Dean let out a laugh, “human candy.”

“Dean!” Sam cried, holding back his own laughter. 

The body was placed in the trunk of the Impala and they were off, looking for somewhere to dump Max. The rain would hopefully rinse away any trace of them and if Max was abused like the bruises suggested, it could mean no one would look for him. They drove further out of the town, looking for the stream, Dean assumed they had dumped the body there. It didn’t take long to find it, it was at the entrance to a national park and followed inwards, with luck no one would find Max for a long time. 

They untied the tarp and let his body roll in freely, watching it drift downstream. “So, we talk now huh?” Dean said. 

“I think I’m going to get Max’s powers.”

Dean did a double take, “um - okay? Why do you think that?”

“I don’t know, it’s just a feeling I have.”

“Well, I guess that’s a good thing?” Dean replied trying to sound positive, “I mean, you’ll be able to get me a beer without having to move now."  They smiled at each other, the prospect of Sam having telekinesis wasn't a bad idea. It could come in handy, especially with hunting. Dean could live with his brother having these weird abilities, it wasn't a huge deal. Sam had always been different, this was just another thing. Dean lent down and kissed Sam. "We just have to keep it from dad."

Sam didn’t respond.

“It’ll be okay like I said before. We’re together so it will be okay. Promise.”

They were silent for a long time. Max had already disappeared and the sun was starting to rise. John would be wondering where they were soon. Suddenly, Sam asked: “why am I like this?”

“What?”

“Why am I like this?”

“Like what?”

He scoffed, “fucking physic Dean! You and dad aren’t, I’m sure mom wasn’t! Why me?”

“I don’t know,” Dean replied, wrapping his arms around Sam and pressing his lips against his in a short but passionate kiss. “But it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does,” Sam mumbled against Dean’s shoulder. 

Dean kissed Sam’s head, “no it doesn’t. You’re awesome and I love you. That’s all that matters.”

“Really?”   


“Would I lie to you?”

Sam smiled, Dean could feel it against his shoulder, “you told me Santa was real.”

“Smartass,” Dean grumbled. “But seriously, I promise, if I’m with you, you’re going to be fine.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long wait but it has arrived! Please let me know if you liked it :)


	8. Chapter 8

After Max, it became easier. 

A vision would happen, usually weeks in advance, and Sam would know their next victim. He never went looking for them, they would always arrive beside the Winchesters some way or another. Within three days of Max’s death, Sam was able to move objects. He still wasn’t great at it, but he practiced whenever John was out, moving a spoon was easy but moving a book? He still hadn’t gotten there. 

Then there was Scott Carey a month after Max, and Sam could control electricity (always fun to shock Dean) but like Max, it took a long time for Sam to be able to control the power. Then there was Helen, and Sam’s visions were stronger and clearer, and then Ward, and now Sam can decide what he wanted to see much easier. 

They kept it from John well, just like their relationship which was also becoming stronger every day. Kisses were common, cuddling even more so. They were always touching now, which was great after Sam killed Andy Gallagher and could implant thoughts into anyone he was touching. Sending thoughts to Dean at inappropriate times was his new pleasure, especially if the thought themselves were inappropriate. 

“God damn it Sam!” Dean growled as they walked out of the school building. 

Sam let out a laugh, “what? It was funny!”

“It was not,” Dean replied with a glare. Dean had been talking to his teacher (the teacher was worried about him; Dean was trying to calm her down. A common theme in their different schools) and Sam had been giving him electric shocks the entire time. Then he had rested his hand on Dean’s arm and send the thought of them having sex. “I am not - not - fucking you, Sammy, it wasn’t okay.”

“Okay,” Sam replied while raising his hands, “sorry.”

Dean sighed, “it’s fine.”

“But why’d you say you won’t fuck me?”

“Pardon!?” Dean stopped walking and looked at his brother. “Did you just say that?”

Sam didn’t stop walking and nodded, “I want to know.”

“Because you are 13,” Dean replied, catching up with him. “I am not doing anything with you until you’re older.”

“You do plenty with me.”

“Like what?”

“We’re on our way to find someone to murder, Dean, that’s something.”

Dean shook his head, “that’s completely different.” 

“So, in your opinion, underage sex is worse than murder and incest?” 

“Yes.”

“That’s dumb.”

“Shut up.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “seriously though. That’s a weird way to look at the world. Murder and incest you can excuse, but consensual underage sex is where you draw the line. I feel like that’s the least punishable offense on your list.” 

“Shut up Sam.”

“When will you fuc-”

“Sam!” 

“Answer the question, Jerk!” Sam replied looking up at Dean.

“Bitch,” Dean muttered. “I don’t know. When you’re older.”

Pouting Sam looked away from Dean, “no fair. I don’t want to wait.”

“We’re done with this conversation, Sam, until you’re like, 15.”

“Two years!”

Dean ignored him, pointing at a man getting out of a car. “Him.”

The two of them dropped the conversation (though Sam was going to bring it up again) and followed the man around town for about twenty minutes. When he was about to get in his car Dean went up behind him and pressed a gun to his back he relented and got in the back. Sam made quick work of covering his mouth with a chloroform saturated cloth and tying his wrists. 

Another characterless shed on a farm later and Dean was sharpening his knives while the man slowly came to. Sam was sat in the corner, a novel on his lap, as he tuned out Dean’s humming and the man’s occasional whimper. He was groggy at first, and as he became more level-headed start begging. Begging was standard, they always begged, but this man was different which got both brothers attention.

“It’s not been ten years!” 

“What?” Dean asked. 

“My ten years - “ he continued to babble on about ten years, and black dogs, none of which made any sense to the brothers after a few minutes of listening to him Dean started to play with his knives. 

In the end, the man had been reduced to a pile of cut skin and clothes, gross in Sam’s opinion. 

“I’ll figure out what he meant,” Sam said suddenly. They were about halfway back to the motel and hadn’t really spoken.

“What?”

“The ten-year thing - there’s something there, I’m going to figure it out.”

Dean nodded, “okay. Awesome.”

The motel they were staying at wasn’t far from the shed, so they walked into the motel soon after. John was already there, sitting at the rickety table with his journal in front of him and his phone lying beside him. 

“Boys.”

“Hey dad,” Dean greeted. He took Sam’s bag and his own before hanging them up on a hook beside the door. Sam would get them down as soon as they had eaten so he could do his homework while complaining that Dean wasn’t. 

“I’ve got some news,” John said. Sam frowned, his dad was acting strange - off. “You boys aren’t going to like it.”

The brothers looked at each other, concern on their faces. They hadn’t even left the entrance of the motel and already their dad was acting weird. “What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“There’s a hunt,” John replied, his eye twitching. 

Sam sighed, they’d have to leave this town just after he slaved away on an essay he wouldn’t be able to turn in. 

“And Dean’s going to take it. Alone.”

Both of the brothers frowned as they took in the news. It sounded fake. Neither could fully grasp what was happening. They were never alone. They were always together. Sam placed his hand on Dean’s arm again, there were no coherent thoughts, just general panic. Dean grimaced and stepped closer to his brother. They could feel John’s eyes on them as they moved closer. 

“What do you mean?” He asked after a moment of silence.

“There’s a case, werewolf, in New York that you’re going to take by yourself. You’re old enough now, and god knows you’ve trained for it.” 

Again, they were silent. Dean, even though he didn’t have the same abilities as Sam, knew what he was thinking. He also knew he needed to calm his brother down before John ended up at the bottom of a river. “I don’t want to.”

John frowned but didn’t look at Dean, “you don’t have a choice.”

“I’m not leaving Sam alone.”

“He’s not going to be alone, he does have a father.”

Dean looked suspicious, “one that’s never there.”

“You’re going on the hunt and that’s final. I’m taking you up there tonight. Pack a bag.”

The brothers walked over their bed silently. Heavy thoughts on their minds. They never went more than a school day without seeing each other, usually not even that, Dean had gotten in trouble more than a couple of times for going to see Sam at lunch. Being alone wasn’t something they did. 

Sam’s hand was still on Dean’s arm, the panic was still there. Dean wrapped his arm around Sam’s shoulder and pulled him closer. John watched with narrowed eyes as they moved as one, packing Dean’s bag together in complete silence. 

Getting Dean in the car was hard, it was made harder when Dean realised Sam would be left alone for the night while John drove him to New York. A nearly six-hour drive. Sam was freaking out as well, not that he was being left for the night, but that his brother was being taken from him. 

The car was silent as John drove Dean up. The radio wasn’t turned on and they didn’t say a word until they reached the state limit. 

Dean was lost in his own thoughts as John drove. His father had been acting strange the last few days, hanging around them more often and watching them with a frown on his face. He hadn’t been drinking as much as well, keeping sober. Dean should have seen the signs, he felt like an idiot, his own father had one-upped him. Apart from Sam, John was the closest person in Dean’s life. He had been an idiot. Now Sam was paying for it. Now they were being separated. 

“There’s no hunt, is there?” Dean said suddenly. 

“No. There’s not.”

“So what’s in New York?”

“A boys home.”

Dean was shocked. He had known he wasn’t going on a hunt from the moment John had started speaking, but a boys home? Not something that had crossed his mind. “A boys home?” He echoed. 

“Yes. Sonny’s home for boys or something like that. You’ll be there until I come back and get you.” 

All that was going through Dean’s head was Sam and the fact that he wouldn’t be able to see Sam. Sam wouldn’t know where he was, or why he was there. 

“I know what you’ve been doing,” John continued. “I’m not okay with it.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked. 

“You and Sam are -” he hesitated “- are too involved with each other. You need a break from each other.” 

So John knew about his and Sammy’s relationship. He couldn’t say he was surprised, sure they were careful around him but they were still much closer than any normal siblings. They didn’t do anything illegal in front of their father, but Dean doubted John didn’t mind the cuddling and Sam sitting on his lap whenever they were home. 

“This is final until I think you’ve had enough time apart.”

Silence filled the car again. Neither man spoke until they reached the farmhouse. Once the paperwork was filled out, Dean walked back to the car with his father. John got in the driver’s seat and looked out the rolled down window. Suddenly, Dean grinned, “good luck with Sammy,” he said darkly before turning and walking away, knowing full well that Sam would make John’s life a living hell until they were back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, sorry. Let me know if you like it!


	9. Again

Sam was fuming. It had been two weeks. Two weeks since John had taken his brother away from him. They had never been apart so at first he was nervous and couldn’t sleep, and then he became angry. At the world or at John? He didn’t know and he didn’t care. 

Dean was gone. 

After John had returned he had taken Sam over to Bobby’s house. He promised to stay for a while before leaving Sam with Bobby. That was something that had always confused Sam when Dean was his age he was left alone for weeks with a younger Sam to look after, but Sam was never allowed to be alone for more than a night. Dean had told him to ignore it, after all, it meant they could be together. But still, it weighed on him. Now more than ever. 

A week and a half into the stay, two days ago, John had taken a case a few hours away and left Sam with Bobby. It hadn’t been too bad since he was gone, Bobby was a lot laxer on training schedules and a lot more lenient on what Sam was allowed to read. But he still missed his brother and still had a hard time going to sleep each night. 

Across the country, Dean was no better. School work was boring without Sam beside him and as much as Sonny tried, he annoyed Dean to no end. Dean didn’t need a ‘father’ figure to mentor him, he didn’t need help in life. He had been alone since he was young, he knew what he was doing. 

His anger had gotten the best of him a few times early on, usually, Sam would be the one to rein him back but he wasn’t there. So Sonny suggested wrestling at his new school. It was a good way to beat the crap out of someone and not go to jail, so win-win. 

Sam, that boy was always on Dean’s mind, worse now they were apart. 

He had always been Dean’s from when they were just babies. Even before Mary died, they were always one. Sam had joked once that there was actually only one Winchester boy, two bodies but one boy, Dean couldn’t have agreed more. Sam had been completely right, he was even more right when he said that Dean would be crazy if Sam wasn’t okay with him being the boss. He had always had a need to be in charge of Sam, he tried to pretend it was to the protect him, but in reality, it was just that he needed to fill that void inside of himself. He never made Sam feel unsafe in their relationship, and Sam had a say just like Dean, but Dean still needed to make the final call. He just needed to.

“How are you doing, Dean?” Sonny asked, snapping Dean out off his thoughts. He was sitting on his bed, the school bus would be there shortly but he wasn’t even dressed yet. He hadn’t even realized the other boys had left the room.

“Oh, awesome.”

“Really? Then how come you’re still in your ‘jammies?”

Dean looked down and sighed, “um-lost track of time.”

“Right, well the school bus just left. Couldn’t help but notice you weren’t on it.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll get to school.”

Sonny looked amused, “are you going to run four miles in twenty minutes?”

“Sure.”

The way in which Dean spoke made Sonny do a double take. He had many boys sass him over the years, but not today. Dean was dead serious. “Well, okay, or I can drive you.”

“Thought you said you didn’t do that.”

“Well, I also promised I’d help get your life on track, and I can’t do that if you’re skipping school. So get dressed and I’ll meet you at the car,” he smiled at Dean and walked out. Dean sighed but got up and got ready for the day. 

A few minutes later Dean meet Sonny out front. The radio was on softly in the minivan and Sonny hummed along occasionally. The drive to school took about ten minutes, since they had to drive through the winding roads and not across the fields like walking. Dean didn’t mind, he didn’t actually want to run to school.

“So,” Sonny started, “what got you so frazzled this morning?”

“Told you, I lost track of time.”

“Huh-uh, and why’s that?”

“I was thinking.”

Sonny nodded, obviously pleased with where the conversation was heading, “about what?”

He wasn’t stupid and he knew how to read people, Sonny wanted him to open up, get all emotional so that he could see inside Dean’s brain. It was something he did to plenty of people and hated it when it happened to him. “My brother,” Dean answered finally. 

“Ah, is this the brother you’re father told me about.”

“What did he tell you?”

“That you two are close, borderline destructive-” Dean scoffed but Sonny continued “-and that he was worried about the two of you. He wanted you to have some time away, in a place that would help with your anger issues.”

Again, Dean scoffed. “Sammy and I aren’t ‘destructively’ close. We’re just close.”

“A lot of people think their relationship is a good thing when in reality it’s hurting either one or both people involved.”

“Sammy and I are fine. Our relationship is awesome.”

“Why are you so close?”

Dean rolled his eyes, Sonny wasn’t even trying to hide the fact he was integrating Dean. “Oh, I don’t know, probably because we’re the only other person we have.”

“Yeah?”

In a strange way, Dean kind of liked being asked all the questions, kind of liked having someone to talk to. Even if they would probably use all the answers against him at some point. “We move around a lot so we don’t make friends, my dad’s never home, so it’s us in a motel room. It’s been that way since I was four.”

“That’s a long time to only have one person.”

“Yeah, so we’re close.” 

“Which is a good thing?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Sonny shrugged, not looking at Dean, “what does Sam think of the relationship? Does he think it’s ‘awesome’ like you.” 

It took a lot for Dean not to stab Sonny in the neck there and then. 

“I’ve looked after a lot of boys, I’ve met a lot of people, and I’ve seen a lot of bad relationships,” Sonny continued. Sometimes, people don’t know that the other person in the relationship is unhappy.”

He didn’t answer, having to restrain himself from getting the knife from his pocket. His mind was in turmoil. Part of him agreed with Sonny which almost made him sick, and the other half wanted nothing more than to gut the man who had insisted that their relationship was anything but amazing.

“I’m sure you love your brother, and I’m sure you just want the best for him. Sometimes the best is to end the relationship, or at least calm it down, give some breathing room.”

Dean did the only thing he could do. He jumped out of the car. 

~~

A month had passed since Sam had seen Dean. 4 weeks since John had driven him away. To long.

John had arrived back a week later and hadn’t left since it had been the most time Sam had spent with his father in years. It was making him uncomfortable. His dad was being, especially after got back, to friendly. He wouldn’t yell if Sam made a mistake in training - even a fatal one - and he didn’t mind if Sam sat in silence reading like he usually did. He even listened to Sam complaining (a near constant thing).

It was weird.

Sam also knew that something was up, their dad wouldn’t be this nice for no reason. He was up to something and Sam intended to find out. One night he snuck out of his bedroom and downstairs, just like Dean had taught him, to try and eavesdrop. 

“What does Ellen think? How did they only just find his body.” Bobby asked. Sam froze up, hoping and praying that they weren’t talking about what he thought they were. 

“She thinks it was a hunter who knows what he’s doing.”

“When was the last time you took those boys to the Roadhouse?”

“Years ago, Sam must have been nine or ten.”

“And you think it could have been the boys?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore.”

Sam went back to bed. 

He lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts were everywhere and nowhere. He had always been scared that Gordon Walker would haunt them, as a ghost or a conscience? Who knew. But he was there, no way could a bunch of hunters not solve the case. 

Ellen had seen him threatening Dean and the hunters still didn’t like him or his brother. Saying that they murdered Gordon, even if it was true, would be the best way to get rid of them. 

Holding back a shiver, Sam thought of what the hunters would do to them. He wasn’t scared of a lot of things, especially if Dean was there, but hunters who had a vendetta was definitely something to fear. They had the tools to get rid of them and had the skills to make sure no one ever found out. 

Hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, Sam rolled over and rolled into a ball, pretending to be asleep. 

Bobby and John were both in the hallway outside. Sam could hear them muttering before the door creaked open and they walked in. “How do you not know your boys well enough to know if they’re murders?” Bobby asked.

John sighed but otherwise stayed silent. 

“Sam’s a good kid, so’s Dean,” Bobby said.

“They are.”

“Maybe if you were a good father…”

“Maybe.”

They walked out of the room, closing the door behind them and walking off to their separate rooms. Sam rolled over and stared at the other bed, even if Dean was here he wouldn’t be using that bed so it didn’t make any sense, but Sam felt so much better knowing there were two beds in his room. 

~~

Dean needed relief. It had been a month with no killing - not even a punch. It was making him anxious. Sam would always tease him about it, telling him he needed to ‘get zen’. But, Sam wasn’t there and he was constantly watched by Sonny.

Finally, he snapped and snuck out. 

It was a regular Tuesday night, school was boring and he had done his homework (he never stopped, even when Sam wasn’t there to bug him). Dinner was uneventful and as annoying as always. Afterward, he was sent to bed, the sun already set and the world dark. He couldn’t think of Sam, he would probably be asleep by now, tucked into a bed alone. 

The window was easy to open, the other kids were asleep, and it only took him a few moments to hotwire one of the cars on the property. “Town, here I come.”

His first stop was the local bar, not too shabby and not too nice. The perfect place to pick someone to take. He sat down on a stool and called the bartender over, “Drewers, please.”

“Aren’t you a little young to be here?” The bartender asked, looking Dean up and down.

Grinning, Dean replied, “I’m here, aren’t I?” 

He nodded, not believing Dean but not caring at the same time, and got Dean a drink. A few minutes after he had the drink a young girl walked into the bar, she was no older than twenty-two. Glistening hazel eyes and shaggy brown hair, she was shorter than Dean and walked with a mean bitch face. 

Dean grinned. The female Sam. Perfect.

She sat down beside him and order the same drink. Dean smirked at her, turning on the charm Sam gave him shit for. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she replied. Her bitch face dropped and she smiled a little at Dean. “You new or something? ‘ Don’t recognize you.”

“You could say that, more of a drifter.”

“Even better,” she said, her smile growing. “You here for the night or what?” 

He nodded, “yeah, heading out in the morning.”

“So you have enough time to go back to my place or?”

“I think I have enough time.”

They both knocked back the rest of the drinks and walked out of the bar, she had driven as well and Dean told her that he would follow behind. It was going to be a challenge, he had no tools to use here, no cholform or rope, no nothing. He would need to use whatever he could. 

Her house was nice, just out of the suburbs but close enough they would need to be quiet. He parked behind her and followed her in with a smirk, pocketing a knife from the bench as they walked through the kitchen. 

“God, I need this,” she said when they entered her bedroom. 

“So do I,” Dean replied with a small chuckle. 

In her bedroom, she took off her coat and Dean decided to strike. He pressed his front into her back, wrapping his arm around her neck and covering her mouth with his hand before plunging the knife into her stomach. He stopped counting the blows after fifteen, but by the end of it he was so relaxed (zen, as Sam would say) and ready to head back to Sonny’s. 

The knife was dropped beside her after he wiped his prints. In the bathroom, he tried to just wash the blood off but decided to just get in the shower in his top and try to get as much out as he could. 

It worked well, and his black top hid the majority of it. Sneaking back into his room was just easy and no one even knew she was dead for another week. 

~~

Another week passed and Sam was getting sick of this. 

He had stopped sleeping nearly all together so he was constantly tired and getting his ass handed to him in training. He wasn’t talking to John or Bobby anymore, one reason was that he had nothing to say and the other was that he had started to hate them. They were keeping his brother from him. 

Then, suddenly, he snapped. He assumed this was what Dean felt like when he needed to kill. He was so antsy, so angry at everything, he couldn’t keep still and couldn’t concentrate. He was lying on his bed, throwing a ball up and down, something he had watched Dean do for years. 

“Sam!” John called up the stairs, “come train for a moment.”

Sam groaned but got up and went down, John and Bobby were standing in a clearing out back. He was handed a pocket knife and told to try and take down John. Something that happened every day. 

“Go,” Bobby called and stood back to watch them.

They stalked around each other for a moment, and then everything went clear. Sam could see what was happening in slow motion, could predict when his father would move and how, and how to strike back. 

John lunged to the left and Sam sidestepped, grabbing onto his father’s neck and swinging himself around to land right behind him. The pocket knife was pressed against his throat and he was declared the winner.

It was like he had been titled wound up since Dean had gone and now he had unraveled.

Then Bobby went. Sam was able to get him pinned down and unmoving in under a minute, he didn’t even know what he did. But it was obviously a good move since Bobby tapped out soon after he was pinned.

“Kids got good,” he grunted as he got up.

“Yeah,” John muttered. “Good.”

Sam had never done drugs but he thought this must be what being high felt like. His entire body was buzzing, he couldn’t stop shaking, adrenaline flowing through his veins. He felt like he could run a marathon or take on a pack of werewolves. 

He was standing in the middle of the clearing, waiting for instructions. John and Bobby stood side by side staring at him. They spoke quietly for a second before John dismissed Sam until dinner. 

Dinner was normal until Sam took a drink. Both men watched him like a hawk as he raised the glass to his lips and seemed to relax when he drank. It was all very confusing.

“We’re leaving tomorrow. Make sure you’re packed,” John said after the food was eaten. 

“Leaving?” Sam asked. “Why?”

“Pastor Jim wants to see me. We’re going to get Dean before we go there.”

Sam felt his body relax. Everything seemed to slow down as he heard those words. His anxiety left and he no longer felt so jittery or tired. He closed his eyes for a small moment and imagined being back Dean’s arms, being able to kiss his big brother again, being held by Dean again.

“We’re getting Dean,” Sam said softly. 

“Yeah.”

“Thank God,” Sam replied, even if it felt like he should be thanking something else. 

~~

Dean was staring in the mirror. He had a wrestling competition in two hours, the finals for the area. A big deal according to Sonny, something to be proud of. Dean’s mind was going a mile a minute as he thought about the fight, and about Sam, and their dad, and everything else. 

There was a knock on the door and Sonny came in, “Dean.” 

“Hey.”

“I’ve got some news, and I want you to think before you act.”

“Okay.”

Sonny perched on the edge of a random bed. “You’ve got your fight tonight.” 

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, finally turning to face him. “I do.”

“Look, Dean, this is up to you -”

“The fight?” Dean interrupted. 

Sighing, Sonny avoided Dean’s gaze. “Your dad is here with Sam. They want to take you.”

“They’re here?”

“Yes.” 

Instantly, Dean was packing his duffle bag of things Sonny had bought him over the six weeks. 

“You don’t have to go, Dean, you could stay and finish the school year. You’re thriving here and I don’t want you to ruin all that.”

“Sam’s out there,” Dean paused and looked at Sonny. He could only describe Dean as looking like a starved man about to have a feast. “Why’d I stay here?”

Again, Sonny sighed, “think about it.”

Dean thought about it. He thought about the emptiness that had been inside him since he had been taken away. He thought about the feeling of Sam pressed against him when they spooned on the bed. He thought about the anger he had felt every time he thought of their father and how he took Sam away. He thought about Sam’s smile that was only for Dean. 

He thought about Sam.

“Sam’s my everything.”

“Then I guess it’s goodbye.”

The two of them walked downstairs, John was waiting by the car with Sam, who was basically bouncing up and down beside him. When Dean walked out of the building Sam didn’t hesitate in sprinting over to him, Dean opened his arms and caught his brother in a bone-crushing hug that lasted a little bit too long but none of them cared. 

Sonny patted Dean’s back and the two brothers walked over to John, who hugged Dean as best he could since Sam refused to let go out of his hand, and the three of them headed out of New York. 

Neither boy cared where they were going, they only cared that they were together again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back together again!! Let me know what you thought!


	10. Chapter 10

Sam and Dean sat in the back of the Impala, Sam was tucked under Dean’s arm and Dean was resting his head on Sam’s. They didn’t look comfortable to John, but he guessed they were just happy to be back together. Sam was asleep, had been for awhile, but Dean was awake and watching out the window. 

John took a deep sigh before speaking, “Dean?”

“Yeah,” Dean replied without looking up.

“I need to talk to you, about something important.”

“Okay, what’s up?”

He hesitated, knowing Dean wasn’t going to take this well. “Something’s wrong with Sam.”

“Nothing’s wrong with Sam,” Dean argued instantly. “He’s fine.”

“We were sparring, him me ‘n Bobby, he was able to get us both down within a few seconds, no problem. When I looked at him afterward his eyes - oh god - his eyes were yellow.”

Dean didn’t respond, looking out the window and watching the fields whiz by the car. He knew, he knew that Sam’s eyes could go yellow when he was really really emotional. It didn’t happen often, it had only a few times before and never lasted longer than a minute. Dean had noticed, however, that it was becoming more frequent everytime he killed another person, got a new power. He had never told Sam that it was happening, he doubted the kid even knew, he kept it to himself. 

It ticked him off that it had happened while he was away, while he wasn’t there to protect Sam against the backlash. It was his job to protect Sam, no matter what weird stuff the universe threw at them. At least, he thought, at least John had gone and gotten him so that he didn’t have to go at it alone. 

“You knew that though,” John said breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I know.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me …”

“Didn’t want to worry you.”

John looked at Dean in the rearview mirror, “so you decided to keep that Sam is - is something else? What kind of backward thinking is that?”

“Sam isn’t something else, he’s fine.”

“Dean, people’s eyes just don’t change colour like that.”

“Sam’s do.”

“Which is why we’re going to Pastor Jim’s house. He’s not anything I’ve seen before, same with Bobby.”

Dean scowled, Sam wasn’t a monster or a bad thing, he was just Sammy. Dean’s Sam that could do no wrong. He was just different, special, and that wasn’t a bad thing. As Dean was thinking Sam’s hand slipped down and landed on his own hand, flashes of colour invaded Dean’s mind and he smiled, he was tunning into Sam’s dream.

After the flashes of colour settled down Dean saw what Sam was dreaming. The both of them were in a motel room, it was a generic room, one they had been in 100’s of times. They were lying on the bed completely intertwined and silent. Just embracing each other. Dean wanted to reach into the dream and tell Sam that he loved him. He tried to think of how that would work but couldn’t figure it out so he settled for watching Sam’s dream. 

John watched them in the mirror, Dean’s eyes had glazed over and he was staring down at Sam a smile on his face. They looked peaceful, that was for sure, but John couldn’t help feel that there was something else there, something he couldn’t see.

~~

Jim was waiting on the front porch when they pulled in the next morning. He was standing as still as a statue which unnerved Sam, Dean could tell. John parked the car in front of the house and the three of them got out. Jim waved once they were out and took Sam’s bag from him. 

“Come on in, make yourself at home,” he said as they all walked in. John muttered something to him that the boys couldn’t hear and Jim nodded. “Boys, your room is upstairs first on the left,” he continued and handed Sam back his back rather awkwardly before John and he walked away. 

“They’re talking about us, aren't they?” Sam asked as they walked up. 

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Sam sighed and shook his head, “why?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are! Tell me.”

Dean opened the door and placed his bag on one of the beds, watching as Sam did the same before speaking. “I do, and it’s not okay.”

“You have to tell me now.”

Both of them sat on the bed, Dean wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist and pulled them down so they were lying down with their feet hanging off the edge. “I don’t want you to freak out, Sammy.”

“I won’t.’

“They know what’s up, with you and stuff.”

Sam raised his eyebrow, “if dad knew about me then I would be dead.”

“I’m not letting anyone hurt you,” Dean replied instantly. 

“You weren’t there.”

A silence settled over the room at Sam’s words. He felt guilty the moment he said it, it wasn’t like Dean had chosen to go and Sam did know that Dean would rather die than have Sam hurt. Dean felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest at his brother’s words. Partly because he was right and partly because of the guilt he felt of not being there for him for all those weeks. 

“I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time. Dean smiled weakly at him, “don’t be sorry. It’s fine. But anyway, he doesn’t know about your powers as such, just sometimes, sometimes your eyes go gold when you’re emotional - anger, sadness or even joy sometimes. I never told you cause I didn’t want you to freak.”

 

Another silence fell over them as Sam thought over what Dean had said before he stood, Dean, following suit and sprinted downstairs. Dean followed him, yelling at him to stop. But he didn’t, he kept running until he was face to face with John.

“Sam? What are -”

“I need your journal,” Sam interrupted. 

“Dean told you, huh?” John replied and handed over the book. 

The other three watched as Sam flipped through the pages before settling on one and reading it as quickly as he could. “Sammy?” Dean called, “are you okay?”

“Helen and Ward,” Sam muttered.

“The two with telekinesis, Idaho and New York?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, them.”

“What about them?”

Sam flipped the book closed and looked Dean straight in the eyes. “Their eyes turned gold before I stabbed them - I didn’t say anything cause I thought I was crazy but this all makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Dean asked.

“My eyes, the powers-” Sam cut off and gasped. His knees buckled and he fell forwards, all three men reached out and helped him so he was lying down. He was unmoving and Dean placed his hand on Sam’s forehead hoping to get a glimpse of what he was saying but no such luck. 

“Dean you better explain what’s happening,” John commanded. 

It took a second to process what John had said, his mind had been so focused on Sam. “He’s having a vision.”

“A vision.”

“Yes! Sometimes he sees the future, this is one of those times,” Dean replied before muttering, “and he’s not sharing.”

John looked like he was going to pass out as he listened to Dean and sat down on an armchair. Jim, however, looked amazed. “Like a prophet?” He asked staring at Sam.

“No, not like a prophet,” Dean replied. He was getting more worried by the second, Sam never passed out for this long and he was never this still.

“Like what then?” He asked.

“Like Sam. He sees things, like if a hunt is going to go badly for dad, or who he has to kill next or what state we’ll be in next. Things like that.”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “So like a prophet?”

“Wait, go back, kill?” John asked his gaze flickering between the two brothers. 

Dean went pale. He had let it slip. God, he had been so focused on his worrying over Sam that he had let their big secret slip.

“Why?” Sam muttered, his eyes were still closed and he was unmoving but he spoke. “Why would I do that?”

“Sammy?” Dean whispered, pushing harder against Sam’s forehead. He was getting glimpses now, flashes of golden eyes and a dirty old town. Then Sam, but older, in a white suit with a red rose and Dean dead at his feet. Then Dean standing beside the suited Sam with black eyes and a knife made of some strange material. Dean kneeling beside a rack of people being tortured. All of these in under a second yet it seemed like years. 

He came to, wiping his head around the room before settling on Sam, it had all seemed to so real. Better than every other vision Sam had before. It was so vivid and lifelike. 

“Dean?” John called. “What’s happening.”

“I don’t - I don’t know right - right now.”

“He showed you something, didn’t he?” Jim asked, “he showed you his vision.”

Dean nodded, “I think.”

“What was it?” Jim asked walking closer. 

“We were older and-” Dean was interrupted when Sam gasped and shot up to a sitting position in Dean’s arms. “Sammy?”

His eyes were unfocused and his breathing labored and unnatural. Finally, he calmed down at looked at Dean. “I had a vision.”

“I could tell.”

“We, we were special. We are special.”

“What do you mean?”

‘Dean,’ Sam said silently, ‘Dean there were angels and demons and they all looked to us.’

‘What?’

‘We controlled all of it, Heaven and Hell. It was under our control.’

Dean looked at him uneasily. ‘How’s that possible?’

‘Before we were born it was started, back when mom first met dad, it was started. We’re both special. You, the top knight of hell and me the- the boy king. That’s what he called us.’

‘Who?’

Sam smiled at him and spoke out loud, “Azazel.”


	11. Chapter 11

Hell wasn’t a nice place.

As Azazel walked down the halls he listening to the screams of the damned, watched as demons dragged souls were ever they wanted, felt the fire that constantly blazed across the walls. He never liked it here, the racks were fine, but the rest was terrible. 

The throne room was the only place of refuge in Hell. Only Lucifer’s most trusted, himself included, were allowed in there. It made it a quiet place, a place where Azazel could actually think. That’s where he was headed as he made his way down to hell. Lucifer had called on him, usually, he would be worried about it, but he had good news for the Prince of Darkness. 

Lucifer was sitting on his throne, his vessel was already wearing thin, he would need to get a new one soon. Three demons stood on either side of the throne while two guards stood on each side of the door. 

“My Lord,” Azazel dipped his head as he walked in. “You summoned me.” 

“Update me on the Winchesters.” 

“Samuel has figured out his destiny my Lord. He and the others know.”

He didn’t look too impressed, the vessel’s face turned downwards. “I thought they were not to know before they turned 22.”

“Sam is stronger than first intended, he was able to kill eight other of my children in order to harness his own powers and make them stronger. This stage shouldn’t have happened until he was early twenties. With this information, it makes me all the more certain that Samuel is the one.” 

“And Dean?”

“Is aware of everything aside from his own destiny.”

“The father?” 

Azazel averted his gaze, John Winchester knowing was not part of the plan, and should never have happened. “He knows his son is tied to me, knows that something else is at play in his son’s life.”

“How did he react?” Lucifer asked calmly, even though Azazel knew he was angry. “How did the infamous hunter, John Winchester react when he found out his son is tied to a demon?”

“He left them with the Pastor, Pastor Jim.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“He did not take it well, he was angry at them, and then he left them.”

Lucifer chuckled, a sound that chilled everyone to the core. “I’m not surprised. Keep an eye on the boys, make sure they’re growing up right. We may need to pull everything forward.”

“Will Micheal be okay with that?” 

“I’ll tell him, and he’ll be okay with it. We have been planning this for millennia, everything mapped out perfectly,” he sighed almost wistfully. “Those boys will be our vessels and we rule all of God’s kingdom together.”

Again, Azazel bowed, “I’ll look after the Winchesters,” he turned and started to walk out.

“Azazel-” Lucifer called causing him to stop and turn back, “if either of the boys says no, I’m blaming you.”

The throne room was the only place of refuge in Hell. Azazel walked down the halls he listening to the screams of the damned, watched as demons dragged souls were ever they wanted, felt the fire that constantly blazed across the walls. He never liked it but if it meant being out of the throne room he was okay with the halls of Hell. 

Hell wasn’t a nice place.


	12. Chapter 12

“Azazel,” said with a smile. “He’s the one overseeing all this.”

John went white, “what did you just say?”

“We’re special. We’re chosen.”

“The name,” John snapped. 

Blinking slowly Sam nodded his head, his mind was still foggy, before he answered “Azazel.”

“How do you know that name?” John asked. 

“He started this all, he works for them.”

“Them?” Jim asked.

“The archangels, Michael and Lucifer.”

Silence settled over them. Dean, who had been silent for a long time, was staring down at his brother, who was still resting in his arms. Sam had always been so little, always been a baby in Dean’s eyes, but as he looked at him know, Sam had grown up. Physically, he was the same, but he looked different. He wasn’t his little Sammy now. 

Sam was staring up at Dean, a hazy look in his eyes and a smile on his face. Dean had always been there for him, and now Sam knew Dean would be by his side for all eternity, ruling over everything. The boy king side of it didn’t register in Sam’s mind, it was the fact that Dean was right there that made Sam beam. 

Jim’s gaze was flickering between the brothers, curdled up on the floor, and John who was sitting with his head in his hands on the armchair. He couldn’t help but feel for the man, finding out that the demon responsible for your wife’s death was also controlling your sons wouldn’t be fun. Jim had always been a man of God, and this was unexpected but not impossible so he had already accepted the idea. Sam and Dean were undoubtedly special, evil? Maybe not, but still special. They still had free will, they could still become good people. 

Dean pulled Sam closer to him, they were so close that you could hardly tell them apart now. Just the way they liked it. ‘You okay?’ He asked.

‘Fine,’ Sam replied. ‘You?’ 

‘This is a lot to take in.’

‘Yeah, but we’re going to be okay,’ Sam replied with confidence. 

‘How do you know?’

‘I think you saw the vision.’

‘I did. Well - some parts of it,’ Dean sighed. 

‘So you know that we’ll be fine.’

John was rocking slightly in the armchair as he thought over what was happening. How his life was falling apart in front of him. He had never been the best father, never paid that much attention to his sons, left them alone when they were only young. He had never kidded himself when it came to his parenting. But he didn’t think he had done such a bad job. He didn’t think he was the kind of father to not notice his sons killing others (apparently) and being controlled by demons since they were only babies. 

It was almost laughable, he had dedicated his entire life to killing the bastard and he was right there all along. Right in front of him, using his little boy. 

“So, you boys going to be demons or something?” John said, cutting through the silence. 

“No,” Sam replied. “I don’t think so.”

“Right, because you can see the future,” John’s voice was higher than normal. “That’s something that just happens apparently.” 

Dean sighed softly. He had been protecting Sammy and his secret for so long and protecting his secret for even longer, and now their dad knew. It freaked him out to no end. What was he supposed to do now? 

“Yeah,” he said. “It happens.”

“Some hunter I am,” John muttered to himself. 

“Don’t feel bad,” Jim replied, “if Heaven doesn’t want you to know, you won’t know.”

“Hell,” Sam corrected. 

John and Jim looked down at him, “what?” Jim asked.

“If Hell doesn’t want you to know, Heaven isn’t as involved.” 

Dean frowned and nudged Sam’s shoulder, ‘maybe, don’t freak dad out any more than we need to?’

‘Sorry.’

“Don’t listen to the visions,” Jim said. “Hell may be placing them in your mind, but you get to choose what to do with them.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “We’re not going to listen to them.”

“Good.”

“Why not, Sammy?” 

Sam looked up at Dean, “because, our destiny is to become the vessels for Micheal and Lucifer so they can rule. That’s not what we’re going to do. We’re going to rule.”

He looked so proud as he spoke that Dean couldn’t help feeling proud of them as well. In all honesty, if becoming a knight of hell was the way to stay with Sam for forever, Dean would happily oblige. Both of them knew that.

“You’re going to rule,” Jim echoed. “Hell?”

Again, Sam nodded. 

Jim went pale-faced. He had assumed that their destiny was to rule and that they were going to ignore that and create their own. Something a lot more peaceful than that. But apparently, both boys were happy with that outcome. It terrified Jim to think that.

John noticed the change in Jim, as did Dean, who was now watching the pastor through narrowed eyes. Dean sighed to himself, today had already been a rollercoaster of highs and lows, but now he was going to have to kill someone he looked to like a father. 

‘Distract dad for me.’

‘Why?’

‘Gotta kill Jim.’

‘Oh, why?’

‘Loose end.’

Sam agreed to do what Dean needed and the two of them stood up. Dean all but threw Sam at their dad before manhandling Jim down to the ground, his knife already in his hands. “Dean, please!” He pleaded for a moment before the knife was sliced across his neck, blood pouring out all over him, the floor and Dean. It was over very quickly, one of the less painful deaths Dean had ever given. He could hear John yelling somewhere else, and Sam grunting to try and keep their father back, but he didn’t move until he was sure the pastor was dead and wasn’t about to be brought back. 

He rocked back on his ankles and sat down beside the body. “That sucked,” he muttered.

“Sucked!” John cried, “that’s all you have to say?”

“I had to!”

“Why the hell did you have to?” 

“I don’t know, I just had to. He was going to go against Sammy!” 

John’s face held only rage, “why is everything about Sam with you? You just killed a man because he might turn on your brother if he turns into a DEMON!”

‘You've killed more than one man,’ Sam said winking at Dean.

‘Not the time,’ Dean replied. 

“Dean- this isn’t - this isn’t okay, or right or acceptable. You killed a man. You-”

“If you don’t accept it, Jim won't be the only body on this floor,” Dean’s voice was so dark, so chilling, that even Sam stopped to stare at his big brother. He had never heard that tone from his brother.

John had the same reaction, “you’d kill me.”

“For Sam? Without question.”

“Where did I go wrong with you two?” John asked.

Dean stood up, walked over to Sam and pulled him into a hug before leaning down and pressing a hard and long kiss onto his lips. He looked back at his dad with a grin that would scare the devil himself, “you didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left!


	13. Chapter 13

Sighing, Dean flipped the knife in his hand over and over again. At no point did he miss, or did the knife made of bone slip and cut him, it was always where he wanted it. He sighed again and looked over at Sam. 

‘I’m bored.’

‘You’re always bored,’ he replied without looking up from the paper in front of him.

Dean looked at his brother through black eyes. He always looked so regal when he sat there. A throne fused with bone and blood, grinning skulls surrounding Sam’s frowning face. 

‘Because you’re always boring.’

Sam got a faraway look on his face, something Dean had never really seen before. He shook his head a couple of times before looking over at his brother. “Want to do a job?” He asked allowed, the demons in the hall flinched at his voice. 

“What?”

“John Winchester just died.”

Flipping the knife Dean pursed his lips, “a shame. He was a damn good hunter.”

“He kept killing all my demons,” Sam replied stepping down from his throne. He walked over to Dean and leaned down to kiss him soundly. Being taller than his brother was still a weird thing. He had only just grown, on his twenty-second birthday he had realized that he was taller and had teased Dean relentlessly. 

“What do you want me to do with him?”

‘Bring him down here.’

‘And then?’

‘Whatever you want.’

He grinned at his younger brother. The demons flinched back at the sight. The two kings of hell were not to be messed with, this was something the newest demon knew. You never messed with them. He wrapped his hand around the back of Sam’s neck and pulled him down for another kiss. Sam didn’t even pretend to fight for domination over them, if one thing was going to stay the same through all eternity it was that Dean was in charge of Sam. It had always been that way and it would always be that way. 

“I’m going to the racks after that,” Dean announced. “They need someone to train the new recruits.”

“Have fun.”

“What are you going to do?” Dean asked, looking down at his knife, his black eyes lighting up with the prospect of torturing hundreds of souls. 

Golden eyes glistening with the reflection of fire, Sam smiled softly and turned around to go back and sit on the throne again. He looked the picture of an evil king. “We’ve got work to do.”

Sure, Dean was pure evil but Sam, Sam was something otherworldly.

Dean Winchester, from when he was just a baby, was an angry kid. No, it wasn’t anger. He was evil. People would move out of his way when he walked by, fearing his wrath even as a child. His eyes, they were the worse, when you looked into them it was if you were looking into a wild animal’s. Dean Winchester was the kind of person parents would tell their children about, tell them to beware of him. 

Sam Winchester was less feral. He was worse. You could see the evil in his eyes, the cunning intelligence that he would stare with. Everything about him, the way he stood moved and talked, everything screamed danger. Sam Winchester was not someone to mess with, anyone who saw him new that. 

Ever since the Winchester boys were born people could that something was off about them. 

They were right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have finished...
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's read along, it means the world to me.


End file.
